Marvelous Jobs
by Eilike
Summary: A version of events after the Avengers take their Shawarma break, in which Loki gets his drink, Tony does not get his evening off, and the Chitauri get Officially Mischieved. Brotherly feelings, but no pairings.
1. He's alone With my drinks!

Hi, everybody. Thank you for calling up this story, which is my second fanfic in the Marvel universe.

This story was started mainly because I was curious to see whether I could "write" Tony Stark. Therefore, instead of featuring all Avengers, it focuses on him, Loki and Thor – the latter two gradually taking over as the original stand-alone scene suddenly set off and developed _a plot._

To enjoy this story, you should not be hostile to the concept that Thor is not in an "if my 'one-time brother' says but one wrong word I'll smash him, regardlessly" way (otherwise, this story would be finished pretty much at Loki's second line). You also should not resent the idea of Earth liqueur going to an Asgardian's head. However, no Aesir/Avenger was made to purr, panic, morph, half-drown, swear, or eat fast food, unless absolutely necessary. :)

Rated T, because necessity is a bitch.

Contains spoilers to "The Avengers" and wraps up preparing the road to Thor II.

Please read & review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Loki, Thor, Tony Stark or any other character featured in this story, I hold no rights to any of them. I do not make money out of this.

* * *

**+++Chapter 1: He's alone. With my drinks +++**

The Avengers returned from their Shawarma break and found Loki missing. They had left the trickster with chains on his hands and feet that Thor promised would arrest his magic. They also had successfully talked themselves into believing that half an hour did not make a difference, really: Look at how beaten up the trickster was.

Look at how utterly destroyed Tony's floor was, where the Hulk had pounded the demigod. JARVIS had it all taped, and the Avengers carefully avoided looking at each other when they watched those five or six seconds that mattered.

There had been a short silence afterward. Someone snuffled. Someone else shuffled their feet.

And then, Barton's voice, '_Encore! Please!_'

Natasha had nudged him in the ribs and mumbled in Russian that she didn't care about Loki, but _Thor was present_.

Stepping over the debris on his way out had made Tony think of a favorite cliché in cartoons: People falling from great heights and leaving a Donald Duck- or Coyote-shaped hole in the ground.

The hole in Tony's floor was vaguely Loki-shaped.

Bizarre.

Yet, the guy still lived to ask for a drink. Didn't even have a major bone broken. Was already able to sneer at them again when they took him to one of the laboratories on level eighty-one, a sterile, empty room that featured nothing that could be used as tools or weapons. There were not only one, but three heavy, fire- and radiation-proof doors to make sure "not even a multi-dimensional hornet on crack could beam in or out", as Tony had proudly put it.

The precautions had convinced Barton and Romanoff that it was not necessary for them to return with the others after their belated "lunch break". Thor had officially appealed to Director Fury to hand over Loki to Asgardian justice. Barton feared he might kill the trickster before scientists had finished preparing the Tesseract to channel the journey. He wanted to see Loki but one more time: standing on the platform with Thor, gagged and bound, ready for transport.

Then, and only then, Barton would smile at the trickster, and he would not smile nicely.

So, it was only Thor, Rogers, Banner and Stark himself who were faced with the disaster – and they, too, were far from amused.

'Stark? Stark!' Rogers held up the trickster's discarded chains. He practically shoved them up Stark's nose to get the man's attention.

'Easy,' warned Tony, snapping out of his reverie. He raised his hands in a defensive gesture. 'Watch where you stick that.'

'How could this happen? You programmed your computer to keep Loki here, didn't you?'

The implied accusation toward his A.I. assistant washed some color into Tony's face, 'Why's JARVIS suddenly responsible if Prince of Denmark's chains can't take a little rattling?'

'Stark,' said Banner, 'It's "Prince of Asgard". And it looks like these chains were not broken but opened. So were the doors. And, yes, I did get that you were making a literary reference. I only think it was politically beside the point and in bad taste.'

'That's right. Let me know if I suck. It's only my house, after all. Got my name on it. Granted, everything but the "A" went missing, but - ' Banner gave him a really dirty look, which was beside the point, because Tony already regarded the chains as he spoke. _Opened. Right._ 'JARVIS? Do you have an explanation?'

'Mr. Loki of Asgard asked me to release him,' said the A.I.

Rogers immediately looked like all his potential prejudices toward a modern bag of bolts and relays had been fulfilled. Banner arched his eyebrows. Thor remained silent. He toyed with something he had brought from Asgard, a gag to be put on his brother once he was caught. Loki talked himself out of trouble more efficiently than some men wielded their swords at their captors. But it had been only half an hour, and no one to talk to... or so Thor had thought.

'Of course, I didn't comply with his wishes,' JARVIS went on. 'But he started reasoning with me.'

'Reasoning?' asked Tony.

'When you left you explicitly told me to watch our "guest". Mr Loki overheard that. So he asked me how I could reconcile my order to provide for a guest's well-being with my refusal to unchain him. I replied that it was in my programming to obey your orders, sir. You wishes are prominent. You obviously did not wish him to leave, as he was likely to do, if released.'

'If it was that obvious, why _did_ you free him?' asked Banner.

'He pointed out that I had no proof he would actually leave the building,' the A.I. said. 'Providing for guests is a standing order. The decision to refuse this basest hospitality on purely speculative grounds in this particular case was mine. Mr. Loki's arguments were very convincing. I must admit that for about zero-point-five seconds he got me considering to shut myself down altogether. He made me see that I had become a nuisance to biological lifeforms such as himself rather than a reinforcement for your cause, Mr. Stark.'

A short silence followed this information.

'Correct me, if I'm wrong, Bruce,' said Stark. 'But isn't that so very Star Trek?'

'I don't know how often Captain Kirk did it,' said Banner. 'Talking a hostile A.I. into self-destruction by appealing to its original purpose, the service to mankind. Never took him more than three or four minutes, though.'

'Air time already _was_ expensive back then,' deadpanned Stark.

'Who is this captain?' asked Rogers, looking from one to the other.

'You'd get along,' said Stark, off-handedly. 'You and he, I don't know, feels like you hatched around the same decade. Age of the Taper Cut Heroes, or something.'

'It's a bit of Asimov, too,' mused Banner aloud.

'Yes, but JARVIS didn't shut down, because – JARVIS? Why didn't you?'

'Because after laying down the fundamental problem, Mr. Loki and I were able to work out a mode of proceeding that was fit to fulfill the requirements of hospitality while at the same time being in accordance with safety protocol.'

'Requirements? Hospitality? Just _where is he_, JARVIS?!'

'Mr. Loki is in the lounge.'

'Is he alone?' asked Rogers.

'Affirmative.'

'He's alone?' Tony actually paled a little. 'With my... _drinks?_' he breathed.

* * *

They stepped out of the elevator into an empty lounge. The debris on the floor was unchanged. The large window was still shattered. There was a beautiful light of late afternoon on the river and the skyline.

It also highlighted the terrible damage wreaked on the buildings of Manhattan. It reminded them that hardly two hours ago, this city had been the scene of a deadly fight... and the arch villain their charge.

'All right, JARVIS, where is he?' asked Tony. Behind him, Thor, Banner and Rogers fanned out.

They didn't have to fan very far.

'Mr. Loki is at the bar,' said the A.I., just as Rogers called out, 'I got him.'

The blond soldier kept a stoic face as the demigod swivelled up his eyes to him and said in a low, mocking voice, '_And how great an accomplishment it is, and how elated you must feel about it.'_

'What the – ' Stark, less bothered about countenance than the captain, rounded the corner and stared at their prisoner: Loki sat on the floor with his back against the counter. His legs were stretched out, forming a V-shape in front of him. His hands were loosely in his lap, but it was the sight of the glass in his right hand that wrought the hearty 'f'-word from Tony's mouth.

'A little rude,' said Loki. 'But amazingly close to expressing my sentiments on this situation, too.' He sipped from his glass and shivered. His shoulders slumped at bit. '_Sentiments_,' he mumbled into his drink and guffawed.

Tony cast a deeply concerned look at the next best Avenger nearby. It happened to be Banner. The doctor shrugged.

_Don't stand there shrugging,_ Tony wanted to shout at him. _That's my favorite 1958 Highland Single Malt going into Crawling Chaos. You don't chug that like soda. That is to say _I_ might, if I were beaten up, humiliated and in the mood for it. But, hell, I _own_ that stuff. _He_ doesn't. I do._

'Brother.' Thor's voice rumbled so deep it seemed to reverberate in the walls. 'What have you done?'

'So you've returned from your little... _Shawarma ramble_, haven't you?' Loki's tones were pure velvet, sprinkled with finely ground glass. 'Did you celebrate your victory? Did you glory in your triumph?'

Thor, like everyone, thought of the tired, silent bunch munching listlessly on their fast food. 'That is not what trans– '

'I can picture you standing there,' Loki cut across him in that soft, yet hateful voice, 'In all your princely attire, the Mjolnir in hand, you would strike a magnificent pose. Proudly relating the news of your conquest, recounting every detail to the human dimwits that are dull and gullible enough to hang on your every word – '

Thor wanted to jump at him.

Rogers and Banner moved as if they basically meant to stop him, but just needed to figure out _what the hell would be their reasons for wanting to do so?_

Tony could think of at least one.

'Ah,' he said, '_Ah, ah, ah!_ Not my floor again!', and his tone of voice actually managed to halt the breaking storm. There was, after all, something like a host's authority, and it entitled Tony Stark to call his guests to order and forbid bloodshed in his house. Half-heartedly, Thor moved forward again. Stark's upraised finger stopped him. 'Before this is taken any further, I want it to be absolutely clear to everyone present - ' Tony turned and, looking down his nose at Loki, he said with a chuckle on his voice, 'You don't know what a Shawarma joint looks like on the inside, do you, Reindeer Games? You've never been to one. You have no idea what "Shawarma" is.'

Loki glared up at him, then he cast a calculating look at his brother. 'I'm never going to find out now,' he stated. '_That's so_ _umph-hair._' His last sentence mimicked a querulous child's sulky tone of voice.

'Umph-hair?' asked Tony.

'Loki is referring to my mispronouncing the word "unfair" when I was much younger,' growled Thor.

From below and over the rim of his glass, Loki shot him a look that said it was only one of the more harmless embarrassing secrets he could relate, if he wanted. If Thor _made_ him want to relate them through deed, word or simply by continuing to breathe threat down his neck.

'What is this? A fraternal strife?' asked Rogers irritably.

'Of course it is,' said Tony, 'Stuttgart. The helicarrier. World domination. Nothing but a younger sibling carrying it out on his senior.' He shrugged. 'You didn't notice?'

'But that's so – _petty_,' protested Rogers.

'On the contrary. It's arrested development on a semi-devine scale. You and I used to kick at flowers when we were five and felt mistreated. This guy is a little older, and an alien, and he thinks about uprooting the World Tree because his big brother didn't take him to the party.'

'Party?'

'Shawarma joint,' translated Stark. 'And quite a number of sleepovers and prom nights that you and I don't know about.'

'How young were you?' asked Banner meanwhile, just to distract the thunderer from his anger. It worked at least partially.

'Oh, seventy... eighty, maybe,' said Thor. But his hand still held the Mjolnir, just like Loki refilled his drink as if this wasn't about him at all.

Banner signaled Thor to listen to him.

'Look,' he said, 'I don't know about Asgardian childhood, really. But I am sure that whatever went down between you two, at least _you_ never did it on purpose - '

'I was burdened with _glorious purpose,_' Loki pointed out. 'Until you guys came along.'

Obviously, no one had told the Norse god that you didn't fill a whiskey glass to the brim like you probably would a goblet of mead.

Checking on the bottle's contents, Tony did a quick calculation. He didn't like the result.

_Come on, Tony,_ he told himself. _Kick off your pride like you would kick off your shoes before you crawled in with another of those Girls, Your Mommy Has Warned You All About..._

Life can be peachy. The main thing is to ignore the tabloids and the stares of people around you... _You're doing a marvelous job, Bruce, reining Thunder Bolt in. Don't fail me now. I don't want to be sandwiched between Santa Claus and Father Christmas when the Northern rumble starts.  
_

Tony sat on the floor beside Loki, with his back against the bar and his hands loosely on his drawn-up knees.

'Tell me about "unfair",' he said, keeping his eyes to the opposite wall.

_Baaad idea, Tony, _he told himself. Never encourage a drunk to pour out his heart to you. Unless "he" is actually a knockout "she" you desperately want to go to bed with.

Even then, it's ambitious...

+++End of Chapter 1+++

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A/N: Getting a new story started is always exiting. Looking forward to your reviews! (The "Crawling Chaos" refers to the great H. P. Lovecraft's pantheon, in which it (he?) is described as "the soul" of the gods that, at times, chooses to walk among humans in the disguise of a scientist/sorcerer.)


	2. Got any Chitauri Cell Phone Numbers?

Hi, everybody. Thanks for reading, and thanks to my reviewers - pallyndrome: There is definitely quite some _angst_ in this story, but it won't prevail. BeeKee: I hope you keep enjoying reading. :)

Please read & review.

Disclaimer: I do not own Loki, Thor, Tony Stark or any other character featured in this story, I hold no rights to any of them. I do not make money out of this.

* * *

**+++Chapter 2: Got any Chitauri Cell Phone Numbers? +++**

'Tell me about _umph-hair_,' Tony offered to the dazed demi-god, and a short silence fell.

Then, looking intently at his glass instead of at the human by his side, Loki said, 'Your pathetic attempt at the human custom called "small talk" won't avail you anything.'

It came out so smoothly that Tony wondered just how drunk the trickster actually was.

'Okay, skip the introduction. That – ,' Tony turned and pointed at the glass in Loki's hand. 'That's my favorite whiskey. The bottle was full when we left. It's almost empty now. I offered you a drink. You declined. Instead, you take the whole thing when I'm not watching. That's what I call "umph-hair".'

Loki snarled. 'That's nothing but pathetic mewling over trifles, mortal.'

Tony knew he should not let himself be provoked. And he could have put up with being called "pathetic" and "mewling" - these words were but repetitions of an earlier conversation, after all, and if Natasha could stomach them, so could a Tony Stark. But _"trifles"_?

He quirked his eyebrows, 'I'm pathetic? _You're_ the one gone to sit behind a bar and get smashed. And those "trifles" you're doing it on is fifty-four years old and five hundred dollars a glass. Regular fills, mind me.' Tony kept speaking faster and faster, 'Fifty-four years. Five hundred bucks. You might wonder why I should care - the keyword being "billionaire", and all - but I'm not talking about money. I'm talking principles, so help me your Greek cousin - _whassisname?_ – Bacchus!' Tony passionately drove his fist into his other hand, making Banner jump and everyone stare at him. Including Loki.

Tony recognized that look: Loki always tilted his head and frowned this way when he knew he was missing vital information and hoped someone - Tony - _someone_ would volunteer it.

The dark-haired god blinked slowly. '_Bucks?_' he asked.

A short glance at Thor showed the thunderer was equally puzzled, picturing Tony in the effort of herding a reasonably-sized flock of four-legged animals into that crowded place called "Shopping Mall", and the even smaller booth called "liquor store" to pay for his purchases.

'Look, all I wanted to say is – ' Tony sighed, 'Is that the famous Asgardian way to deal with trouble?'

'It most certainly isn't – ' Thor started, but Banner's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

'The Asgardian way knows no mercy for the fallen,' said Loki in a low voice, looking into his glass. 'It does not matter that it was an unfair battle from the start. Seven against one...'

'Seven?' said Banner. 'We're only a team of six.'

Loki seemed confused. He put down the glass to count on his fingers. His gaze flickered up to Banner. Back to his fingers. Back to Banner...

Banner sighed. 'He's including the Other Guy.'

'Makes sense, I guess,' said Tony. 'From his point of view.'

'His point of view? _His point?_' Rogers said hotly. 'This whole discussion is absolutely pointless, if you ask me – '

'Which we don't,' Tony lashed out without thinking.

'Rogers,' said Banner. 'Stark, _please_ – '

Tony felt sorry, but he wasn't prepared to admit it, 'Did you ask him? Because I sure didn't.'

'I,' said Loki, quite unexpectedly, 'did certainly not ask him to gatecrash my demonstration of power in that German settlement.'

'Brother,' said Thor. 'We will have none of that - ', but Rogers had already taken the bait.

'You got a problem with me saving innocent people?' he asked of Loki.

'I've got a problem with your ego.' Loki picked up his glass again. 'Sure, your oversized disc did a nice job depleting my Chitauri warriors. But you're a miserable shot. _And,' _he added maliciously,_ '_I've been told that when S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier's rotors were down you needed Stark to advise you to use the stator control unit in order to reverse polarity so you would be able to disengage maglev and – '

'Just what are you talking about?' asked Rogers.

Loki rolled his eyes. 'Red lever?' he prompted and took a swig from his glass.

Rogers blushed up to the roots of his blond hair and seemed too furious to reply.

'Brother, consider,' said Thor urgently. 'Do not start another "Oegir's meal" now.'

'Another what?' asked Tony.

Thor looked uncomfortable, 'My brother got very drunk on that occasion, and he – he was very outspoken on things that were not well received by most of the guests present.'

'Merely telling the truth,' said Loki sulkily.

'Offending them,' Thor said. 'Which was not a very wise thing to do considering the audience mainly consisted of Aesir.'

'_Odin Allfather_ is said to be wise. Now look at _his_ decisions and deeds.'

'_Umph-hair_,' said Tony. 'Yes. We know that.'

'You know nothing! _He -_ ' Loki pointed his glass at his brother, 'he tossed my into an abyss before. Now, you didn't hesitate to throw me out of a flying plane and crash me on barren rock - '

'Brother. Remember how you dropped me thirty thousand foot – ' Thor started to object, but Loki cut across him, 'That archer, Barton, he tried to shoot me. Which can happen when you're at war. Your most trustworthy comrades jumping ship and turning against you – '

' "Comrade"? Jumping ship? Better not let Clint hear that,' said Tony. As always, when talking "backstage" to a bad guy, he was somewhat amazed at how recent episodes looked when viewed through their eyes. It seemed that no position could be so wrong, no argument so warped not to make the villain feel he was being treated extremly unfair by the heroes. Peter Parker had similar stories to recount. And Bruce Wayne, he really was in it up to his bat ears, what with the Joker and the Penguin readily taking every oath Gotham City should be theirs, _hardships of childhood and life and all that..._

_Umph-hair. _

' – but then you turned loose that female. She was supposed to act like she was my friend, coax me into cooperating. Instead, she wormed her way into my thoughts –'

'Tsk. Didn't live up to your expectations,' said Banner who seemed to share Tony's thoughts. 'Nor did Fury who treated you so comparably well when you thought that, especially for you, he'd "concoct" exquisite tortures. Woe begone! You really want us to apologize for not hurting you?'

'Look who's talking – ' Loki snarled at Banner. 'You – ' He hesitated. He suddenly seemed to be afraid the Hulk might jump out of Banner's clothes and get at him again.

'_I_ didn't do anything to you,' said Banner calmly. 'But I will take a message for the Other Guy. I cannot promise he will get back to you in _a friendly way, _though.'

'Oh dear. Now that,' said Tony, mournfully shaking his head, 'really is the pinnacle of _umph-hair_.'

Loki turned to him sharply, 'Why do you keep saying that ridiculous word?'

'Because, if you could look at it in a more sober mind, you'd realize just how absurd – ridiculous – bizarre – this situation is. There's only one or two Chitauri chieftains missing at this little "redeemed-by-talking" sit-in. Got any Chitauri cell numbers? I'll have JARVIS call and invite them - '

He knew he was being provocative. But he had not expected Loki to make a charge on him. Yet, the trickster did. One moment, he was sitting beside Tony. The next, he was more or less in Tony's arms and wrapping his own arms around the human's neck and head. Tony felt at least two thousand bucks' worth of whiskey splash his neck and trickle down his back. But he couldn't move, couldn't shy away or effectively strike out. Loki had him in a tight stranglehold, and_ damn, he was strong_. Any moment the suffocation would start... _No way the Mark Seven could deploy in time._ Tony had to rely on the others to be quick and skilled enough to free him... But he could see only their feet, and they, curiously, stood like rooted to the floor.

Was that really Loki's voice in his ear, mumbling about the cuteness of humans' ideas, and the cuteness of Tony Stark's ideas in particular. Call on Thanos? _Dear me, is there no limit to mortal ingenuousness? You don't call Thanos. Thanos calls _you_. Pray it's not collect!  
_

'Er.' Tony moved his head as best he could to look at his colleagues. 'I'm not sure what's happening. Can anyone tell me, what's happening?'

'You're being hugged,' said Banner, looking astounded.

'By a villain,' provided Rogers.

'By my brother,' growled Thor, 'whom I have not seen in such a state for centuries. Brother? Let go of Tony Stark. You are hurting him.'

'Er... actually, no. No, he isn't.' Tony reluctantly brought up his hands and hugged Loki back. 'He's a little heavy, but that's okay. Hugging's okay, I guess.' He wondered whom he was trying to soothe. 'I mean, it's fine...'

'Fine?' said Loki over Tony's shoulder, voice incredulous. 'You've got a most peculiar way of interpretation. _Fine?_ I got shot at, beaten up, crashed, threatened, tricked, shot at, threatened, shot at, beaten up, shot at, crashed, crashed again – oh, and beaten up. Well, the last beating might rate as a crash, so it's "beaten up-slash-crashed". All in the course of one day.' Pause to sip, curl in, shiver - shake his head sadly, strands of black hair tickling Tony's neck. 'I'm the first to agree with you, Tony Stark, that this situation were a pinnacle of ridiculousness, if it wasn't so undignified and painful. And that this realm my brother claims for his own is the epitome of gods-awful. But_ fine?'_

'Guard your tongue, brother,' growled Thor.

'Or you'll do what? Beat me up? Crash me? Shoot at me?' Loki found his glass empty, turned it over and shook it, just to make sure. 'Or get me another drink?' he asked, hopefully.

'You have had enough,' Tony decided and felt the demi-god move. 'Banner? What's he doing?'

'Sliding open the cabinet base, scanning your supplies.'

'_Gaah._ Get him away from there!' Tony listened to the clinking sound indicating that Loki pulled out a bottle from the tightly packed stock.

'There's - there's a little snake in one of your bottles, Tony Stark,' the trickster said.

'That's not a snake. The drink's called "tequila", and it's a worm.' Tony could tell Loki tilted his head and frowned, hoping and waiting for the missing vital information to be delivered. 'Banner. Let's get Speedy Gonzalez to the couch.'

With Banner's help, Stark slid out from under the trickster's headlock grip, while Loki still held up the bottle by its neck and marveled at the small worm lying on the glass bottom. Tony kept his hands on Loki's left arm, Banner took the right. Together, they pulled their charge to his feet. Loki gave a sharp gasp and went from indignant-flushed to white-washed pale. Tony knew the feeling - as if your blood was sucked to your feet by gravity, while the alcohol, being lighter than the rest of your fluids, went straight up to gather in your head.

He started to maneuver the demi-god toward the couch, and Loki knew better than to object. At least, he found his feet, though, so Tony could lead him instead of hauling him all the way.

Reaching the couch, Loki flopped down as if he had not had the opportunity to sit in one-hundred years. He reclined against the backrest and tilted back his head. Staring at the ceiling, he moaned softly and put a hand to his head.

'Now, you going to down that, too?' asked Tony, pointed at the tequila bottle the trickster still clutched by the neck.

Loki shook his head, looking terribly sick. He seemed almost happy to hand over the bottle to Tony. That done, he timidly put his hand on his stomach and closed his eyes as if it hurt.

'Is it the worm?' asked Banner, professionally interested. 'Or did the booze finally arrive at where even an Asgardian _realizes_ it's there?'

'Will you guys stop fawning over Loki already?' Rogers exploded. 'He's a criminal. He's _the_ criminal. We've spent the afternoon thwarting his plans of world domination. We are happy to be alive. I, for my part, am happy. Let's send him back to Asgard. The sooner the better.'

'I won't take him back to Asgard just now,' said Thor, crossing his arms. 'My brother will face Asgardian justice. But he will face it standing erect and in a sober mind.'

'You're still worried for his honor? After all he did to you?' asked Banner.

'He is family. It is my honor, too.'

'And besides,' said Tony, sitting on the couch beside the trickster, 'the way I understood it, Loki's _more exotic skills_ are needed to get the Tesseract working again.'

Thor said, 'That is correct. His magic must connect with the Tesseract so our request for a portal to be opened will be received in Asgard. He cannot do this in his current state. We might end up in Muspelheim or an even more unhospitable place.'

Rogers cut in, 'Our scientists can – '

'No,' said Thor just as quickly. '_They cannot._'

Loki leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and panted quickly, cautiously, with his mouth slightly open. Absently, Tony started to rub the sick trickster's back, while listening to the discussion.

'I,' said Thor, 'will not go to Asgard to-night.'

Loki caught his breath and made a curious sound that registered halfway between a sob and a purr. Tony looked inquiringly at the demi-god, trying to catch his gaze. He couldn't. Loki snuggled his left shoulder against the soft backrest and relaxed. He kept making that satisfied sound in his throat.

'Banner,' said Tony, continuing to rub the demi-god's back.

'That your last word?' asked Rogers.

'Aye.'

'Banner? _Bruce!?_' Tony looked up.

'_What?!_' asked Steve, Banner and Thor like one man.

'Gotta listen to this. He's purring. Like a cat.'

'Impossible,' said Banner. 'The human larynx is anatomically incapable of producing...'

'Are you going to lecture me on Reindeer Game's humanity?' Stark asked sharply, remembering Loki's remark when first entering this lounge. 'I'm sorry, Bruce. Just nerves. Listen.' Tony rubbed the demi-god's back, finding that spot between the shoulder blades again.

'Fascinating,' said Banner. He looked questioningly at Thor.

'Don't look at me,' the god of thunder grunted. 'I don't purr.'

Two long strides brought him right before the couch. His face was such that Tony prefered getting up and getting out of lightning's way. Loki smiled dreamily up, for all appearances not caring that his fellow Aesir's face bespoke trouble. Menacingly, Thor clutched the Mjolnir and grabbed his brother by the collar. Loki continued to smile, even as he was pulled to his feet rather roughly.

'What's your plot?' Thor growled. 'I have seen that smile, I know that face. This is never without a reason. What ploy are you setting up? What is it you are waiting for to happen? What is your – ,' he looked at Tony as if asking the human's approval of him using the idiom, 'your "_plan B_" to turn tables this time?'

Loki swayed in his grip and grabbed at Thor's side to stay balanced. He showed his teeth in a mock smile, casting his green eyes up at his brother. They were misted, but not void of cunning all the same.

'_Does it hurt?_' Loki's fingers dug into Thor's side, searching purchase. 'To know you have lost your brother once and for a- ?'

Thor growled like a dog bullied by a wanton kid and slapped him. Loki was a little too sluggish getting out of the way, and the blow threw his head sideways, dark hair flying rather spectacularly. He was flung onto the couch, bounced off the backrest and lay crumbled across three seats. This time, his moan was one of pain rather than discomfort. Still, he tried to laugh at his brother and succeeded wrily, 'I guess - I had that - coming.'

'I'll get you some water,' Thor stomped off, perhaps making the offer as a pretext to stop himself from hitting Loki again.

The three Avengers stared.

'Just what the hell is going on here?' asked Banner.

'Isn't that obvious?' Rogers said, 'Loki knew he'd be taken back to Asgard, so he got himself in a state where he knows Thor will refuse to take him. I tried everything. Banner, Stark, I want you to talk to Thor now. I want that criminal out of this realm. Tonight.'

+++ End of Chapter 2+++

* * *

A/N: "Oegir's Meal" is a chapter of the original Edda - the Aesir don't want Loki to participate, so he sits at the table nonetheless and gives them an account of all the small and larger embarrassments when each of them fell for one of his pranks or relied on him to help them out of an awkward situation. He only shuts up when Thor starts to get angry, claiming that he knows the thunderer was perfectly capable of using the Mjolnir on him.

Please review!


	3. I So Wanted the Evening Off!

Hi there. I'm glad you back for chapter 3. Thanks, Avatar Aang, for your review - may your example inspire lots and lots of followers! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Loki, Thor, Tony Stark or any other character featured in this story, I hold no rights to any of them. I do not make money out of this.

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**+++ Chapter 3: "I so hoped for an evening off!"+++**

Discussion took some time, but in the end Thor and Tony had the last word. Thor repeated that he would not take the risk of either embarrassing his sibling or going astray in time and space. Tony vowed this time there would be no persuading JARVIS and not even a multi-dimensional hornet on opium -

'Wasn't that "crack" last time?' asked Rogers, but without much vigor. It seemed that even the supersoldier had finally shot his bolt and was starting to tire of this game. Tony pointed at the trickster on the couch. Loki had not moved much and lay where Thor's slap had flung him. His head rested on his right elbow, his eyes were conveniently half-closed. He seemed to be listening idly, showing a clear tendency to drift off to sleep altogether. Still, no one would have claimed the God of Mischief to look harmless, or peaceful. He had given them too hard a time, wide awake and scheming. They only felt safe in the meaning that he was probably not likely to pull off a trick in the time it would take them to get their most basic defense weapons ready.

'Looks like Bolt and I will be able to handle this,' said Tony.

'So you said before,' Rogers reminded him. 'About your computer servant.'

Banner rolled his left shoulder and winced a little, 'I would appreciate to know that I am no longer needed. Because I really feel like I could do with a break.'

'There's guest rooms on level ninety-one to eighty-eight,' Tony said. 'Why don't you two stay over? JARVIS will pick you nice quarters, give you the grand tour on the premises. And if Thor and I should require your help, you'll be only one metaphorical call away.'

Banner agreed readily; Rogers showed interest in the offer. But he made it clear that he wanted to talk to Clint and Natasha about this first. Banner proceeded to make decisions as to when and where they would meet the other day in order to get the Asgardians on their way.

Tony heard the doctor talk, but he did not listen. Because another conversation started behind him, as Thor shook the trickster awake to offer him the promised glass of water.

'Don't pretend you care about me,' murmured Loki, his words slightly slurred with sleep. He leaned on his elbow, blinked drowsily at the glass of water, and wiped away a strand of hair. 'You chose to forget about me as soon as I had disappeared from sight. Tumbling into the void.'

'Do not start on this again,' grumbled Thor. 'I told you. We thought you were dead.'

'So you said. But did you try?' the trickster pressed. 'Did you try to find me, if not alive then my corpse? At least to honor me with a proper burial?'

'If only you were prepared to listen – '

'_I am prepared to listen_,' screamed Loki, so suddenly and so loud that everyone except Thor jumped.

Only he screamed it in his mother tongue, so no-one knew what they had been jumping for.

There was, however, one thing evident to the shocked humans: The beaten trickster had finally hit on an issue he really wanted settled. A question he needed to get an answer to. He asked himself time and again, roaming the cold vast of space. Leaving markings for Thor to find, just in case he was not as abandoned as he knew himself to be, all things rationally considered.

It had hurt, back then, remembering how the Warriors Three had hardly let three days pass before defying their orders and rushing to the thunderer's aid.

But Thor's silence now, in Tony Stark's lounge, hurt even more than Loki would ever be prepared to admit, even to himself -

'_On the third day after you left_,' Thor said. Slowly, Loki opened his eyes. It didn't matter they were filled with tell-tale tears. The thunderer was not looking, anyway, but fumbling with a knot in a leather strap he wore around his neck. 'On the third day after you left, I gathered the Warriors Three, and the Lady Sif. And a handful of other warriors that you and I have known and fought side by side with. They all followed my call without hesitation.' Thor pulled impatiently at the leather strap. 'We went far and searched wide, and eventually we found a village that was threatened by a horde of dragons.'

'Dragons are rare these days,' Loki said.

'In the west of Asgard, they are now extinct.' Thor pulled the leather strap up and a white object slipped out from under his shirt. 'I slayed the last one, and a long and hard fight it was. Three days, to the very minute. It was the mightiest dragon of all, older than me, maybe older than Odin Allfather himself. Several times, our friends wanted to join in. Each time, I ordered them to stand back. It was _my fight_.' Thor paused. Loki didn't breathe. 'And when I aimed that final stroke at this worthy adversary's heart, I dedicated the victory to my lost brother. I mourned for you in a warrior's way.'

Something very strange and unusual happened to Loki: He found no spiteful remark to belittle Thor's story as the thunderer held out the object to him. That was, he realized a moment later, because for once he didn't _bother_ to be cynical.

'That's a dragon's tooth, is it not?' he said.

Thor nodded. 'I wanted an eye tooth, but they were too large to be carried as an amulet.'

'An amulet?'

'It's got your name engraved.' Thor proffered the object with more authority, 'Take it.'

Loki took the dragon's tooth in his hand: It was slightly longer than his index finger and curved like a talon. The edges were serrated like a jig-saw. A file had blunted those natural razors a little so Thor would not hurt himself wearing the amulet on his skin. The upper end was cast in intricate Asgardian silver work to allow for the leather strap to be attached. It was one of the smaller teeth, as Thor had said, but it still gave you a good idea as to the dimensions of the beast in whose skull it had once sat. Loki rubbed it with his thumb. He pictured Thor fighting the scaly monster for three days (to the minute). Loki had never seen his brother do anything like it before. But he never doubted the truth of the thunderer's words. _Ancient dragon. Three days. A warrior's way to mourn. _He studied the tiny markings that formed his name - his former name, _Loki Odinson_ - in the silver and enamel.

'There a lot of Odin's magic in this,' he observed.

'Father put his blessing on it. He meant the amulet to become a protection for the son who lived.' Thor lowered his voice, 'I preferred to think of it as a token of brotherly love.'

Loki moved his thumb over a lock of hair that was magically weaved into the leather strap, 'Where did you get this strand of my hair? Surely not from my pillow or hairbrushes?'

'No. You've always been meticulous about keeping them clean. This is the ceremonial strand that mother clipped off the day you received your helm from father's hand.'

'She gave _that_ away?' Struggling with a whole crazy bunch of sentiments, Loki forgot to object against Thor's implying that Odin and Frigga were his "father" and "mother", too.

'She gave it to _me_,' Thor said. 'I give it back to you now, to do with it whatever you think fit. The spirit and magic of the dead brother were supposed to protect the living son of Odin Allfather.'

'Giving it to me won't change a thing,' Loki said, his voice hard. 'I am Loki of Asgard now.'

'I never thought it would,' Thor said. 'But your old name belongs to no-one but you. Even if you chose to no longer go by it.'

There was a silence. Then -

'That glass of water you wanted me to drink,' Loki said quietly, stroking the smooth, white surface of the tooth with his thumb. 'I would like to have it now. Really. I would like to have it very much.'

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Rogers was on his way to meet with the two agents, and Banner was hopefully doing some really, really de-stressing training units in his guest room.

Tony's cell phone rang, and he was not surprised it was Fury calling in. Starting off with a few courteous questions that indicated he had already been filled in on everything. _Sonofabitch._

Still, Tony kept his smile on his face. Pepper had told him it carried over the ether and reached the party at the receiving end, if you smiled. _Made them feel good,_ she claimed. Tony smiled with his teeth gritted and enjoyed the thought of how his faked innocence drove Fury crazy. 'Safe connection? Sure it's safe. No. No, I'm _not_ having trouble with Norse demi-gods. No trouble at all.'

Tony cast a look over at the couch: Thor still haunched by his brother's side, but he had quit talking. He simply watched as if he waited for Reindeer Games to keel over again and stick his four hooves in the air. Which might not be long. No more happy Reindeer pranks and hopping around, rooftop to rooftop. Loki was finished radically, thoroughly, to a degree where even he himself finally realized "game-over". He sat like a school boy in detention, his left hand wedged between his knees. In his right hand, he held the glass of water. Sometimes he'd sip, but mostly he stared at the floor ahead.

_Gee, that guy could look sad._

Tony turned away, listening to Fury on the cell phone. 'So, you're saying -? Sure. Of course, it's possible. I flew a nuke out of here. I didn't exactly do a head count afterward.'

Thor got up and came over. Tony gave him a distracted look, while rubbing his brow with his fingers. 'Hell, no! No, I'm not – you bet!' He sighed. 'Yes. Yes, he's here.' He held out the phone to Thor. 'It's Director Fury for you.'

Now, Loki looked up, too. There was a green spark of interest in the trickster's lusterless, hazed eyes as he watched his brother take the phone from the human.

'Yes?' said Thor. 'Hello? _Hello!_'

Tony discreetly took the phone away, turned it correct-side-front and put it back in the Aesir's big hand.

'_HELLO?!_' shouted Thor. 'Oh. Yes, I can hear you now. I hear you just fine. No. I won't shout anymore, sir.' Thor mumbled some confirmations to Fury. His blue eyes searched Tony's glance, expressing concern. He handed the cell phone back to Tony. 'Three Chitauri warriors have been located near Central Station.'

'I so hoped for an evening off.' Tony sighed and closed the cell phone without checking whether Fury was still on the line. 'You know, all these nice little things that make life enjoyable. A hot shower, some TV – pretty girl from next door coming over, bringing her friends... I'm not sure they're your type, but I think we can arrange for some - '

'I can see Central Station from here,' said Loki. 'What's left of it, anyway.' No one had noticed him moving from the couch to the window. His smug smile was probably meant to convey that he could handle the situation. But on someone swaying drunkenly on the edge of a drop of more than one thousand foot above street level, it was the kind of smile that nearly triggered Tony's most deeply-rooted instinct to lunge, grab and rescue.

_Nearly._

He remembered only too well how he went sailing through that very window by that very guy's hands. He wanted to be officially crowned "King of Asses", if he lifted but one finger for that deranged Coyote. Still, there was this issue of three monsters on the loose: Tony touched a contact in his bracelet to make JARVIS start deploying whatever Mark was available and in working order.

Thor started spinning his hammer. 'Hold on to my neck,' he told Loki.

'The Hel I will,' Loki said, looking surprised that Thor should suggest something like that. 'I have no intention of getting crashed yet again. I'm going on foot.'

'He's not serious, is he?' asked Tony over the noise of armour parts starting to encase his body.

'He is,' said Thor. 'He's got these winged shoes that will carry him through water and air alike.'

'Wasn't that Mercury?'

'They have the same shoemaker', Thor deadpanned, and gave a wild cry, as Loki, apparently bored by their idle talk, stepped out into the air.

Magic did not engage. Gravity did.

Tony started forward so fast one or two parts of his suit almost snapped closed over thin air.

_Bitch from the North should at least have clicked his heels three times,_ he thought as the rest of his armor attached themselves in free fall. _Way to go, Tony Stark. Hardly five hours, and you're doing it again. Fairy dust and happy thoughts. Wonder who's the looney toon of us now..._

* * *

The fact Tony had started dressing up well before taking the plunge had given him valuable seconds as compared to his first, involuntary dive of this day. The armour clanked in place, and as soon as it did, Iron Man fired up the thrusters and caught up with the falling god.

He grabbed Loki by the arm and broke his fall. 'Easy. I got you.' He jerked Loki up, caught him bridal style - not his favorite way of carrying the diva, but an effective one - and pulled him close to stop him from flailing. If the Asgardian panicked now -

Loki did not flail. Nor was he in a panic or hurry to put his arm about his rescuer's neck.

Tony quickly checked his charge's vital signs that JARVIS could pick up through the close body contact, 'Cold-hearted sonofabitch,' was the result he did not hesitate to share. 'Didn't even quicken your heart rate to a noteworthy extent.'

'I cannot be killed by a little fall,' Loki informed him haughtily. 'I am immortal.'

'Says who?'

'Says I.' Loki's finger swayed up. He tried to wave it in front of Tony's nose. Due to the helm, he could not decide exactly where the man's nose was. So, he dabbed his finger against Tony's chest.

_Click._

'Be-because I am a god, and you are – '

_Click._

'Armoured?' Tony supplied, helpfully.

Loki squinted at his finger.

' – you are – '

_Clickclickclick._

'You are aware this didn't work the last time around, either?'

Loki frowned and banged his fist against Tony's chest like one would treat a jammed locker. Remarkably, JARVIS displayed a surge of the demi-god's heart rate _now: _Loki was really frustrated, approaching peevedness at this human's stubborn resistance to his attempts.

'That didn't even hurt,' Tony informed him haughtily. 'You're not trying.'

His feet touched solid ground. He stood.

Loki's feet touched solid ground. He stumbled.

Tony caught him. 'As I said,' he repeated, hoping his smile didn't carry on his voice. 'You're not concentrating.'

'I', said Loki with dignity, 'am gloried with purposeful burden, and you – ' He looked about, baffled. 'You put me down facing the wrong way.'

Tony just knew he was grinning through his mask now, '_No, no._ Problem's with Central Station. It's a bit "back to front" at the moment, that's why.' Loki tilted his head and frowned as though he really tried to believe what he was being told. Tony thought he'd crack up laughing any moment. 'That was to be expected, I guess. Think of all went down here. Glory, and purpose, and lots of aliens...'

'Oh, yes. The Chitauri.' Loki turned on his heel and marched off without paying any more attention to his human rescuer. _Purposed on burdensome glory, or something the like,_ Tony thought as he watched in no small surprise.

Thor landed beside him. _You're a little late,_ Tony wanted to say. Of course, he didn't. The thunderer had no thrusters, and his hammer could carry him upward, not down. And he looked troubled enough by his brother's stunt and something Tony could not immediately place. Actually, he looked like touching down caused him a small inconvenience. Tony let it pass as a slip of attention and a piece of gravel giving way under his boot. This was the God of Thunder, after all.

Thor spoke and stopped Tony's train of thought, 'Thank you, Tony Stark.'

'Thank me – _fiddle-dee-doo_,' Tony snapped. 'What was that shi- that stuff about his flying shoes?'

'He doesn't have them on,' Thor said plainly. 'He says they don't go with his style. They've got these – ', he raised his hands to his shoulders and made small flapping movements, 'cute little wings at the heels. And they _flutter_.'

'I see,' said Tony, defeatedly. 'Fashion before survival. Well, even I don't wear my suit in bed.'

'I didn't know you could put it on so fast,' said Thor.

'_He_ knew.' Tony moved his head to point in Loki's direction. 'He's seen me do it before. Only it was me dropping to my sure death then.'

'Then, what cunning is this?' growled Thor, looking after his sibling: Loki kept walking away from them, slowly, as if the ground was ice and dangerous to tread. 'What does he hope to gain by tricking you like this again?'

'There was no cunning. No trick.' Suddenly, Tony was sure of it. He opened his visor and tipped his head to look up at the far-above window. 'He made it up as he went along. He needed to know whether I – whether _anyone_ would do it for him. Walking a fine line is your brother's nature.' _Just like the need to be caught every now and then, because it's such a treacherous, slippery thing, this trickster's line - thinner than a rope and wriggling underfoot like a viper getting ready to strike. _'How do we know he won't side up with these monsters we plan to put a quick and messy end to?'

'I lost my ability to foresee my brother's decisions a long time ago. But if he should choose to turn against you or the people of Earth again, I shall choose to forget that I have a brother.'

'Don't do anything you might regret later,' mumbled Tony.

The blond demi-god gave a look that was fraught with the weight of all the centuries he had seen come and pass. 'Your warning words mean well, Tony Stark. But they come too late, my friend. Unwittingly or not, I have violated this simple rule not only once, but many times. Alas, and the regret runs deep.'

+++ End of Chapter 3 +++

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A/N: I still enjoy writing this story. I can also see there's quite a lot of people out there reading. If you want to make my writing day - leave me a kudo or review! :)


	4. Don't Swallow that Freaky Shit

Hi, everybody. Sorry I kept you waiting. I had to do a quick birthday story in between for my friend BiBi, but now I'm back - on a Thursday instead of the weekend. Hope, you don't mind. :)

Please R&R.

Disclaimer: I do not own Loki, Thor, Tony Stark or any other character featured in this story, I hold no rights to any of them. I do not make money out of this.

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+++ Chapter 4: Don't swallow that freaky shit! +++

It did not take long to find the surviving Chitauri that S.H.I.E.L.D. had received intelligence about. On the one hand, Loki seemed to know exactly where to go looking for them. On the other hand, the aliens appeared to be waiting for them.

_For him._

Two warriors and a smaller figure came out of Central Station like cowboys entering the scene of showdown. The warriors were taller than the average Chitauri Tony had finished off during battle. But they shared the same skeleton-insectoid looks - and the guns. They were, however, better armoured.

The figure in the middle was peculiar: no taller than Tony and wearing a helmet that looked more like a hood. There was metal shielding the creature's lower face and jaw, but the eyes were hidden under a blindfold that looked like bandages of a mummy.

_Heck, the entire visible rest of the face looked like it belonged to a mummy._ The teeth alone would have made Tony's dentist first go into hysterics, then do a little math whether the outcome might pay for a penthouse suite with a private elevator and unobstructed view on Central Park.

Loki stopped about twenty steps before the monsters. Whether he didn't want to come closer without being invited to or simply waited for Tony and Thor to catch up with him, Tony could not say.

'I thought they all died when their mother ship was destroyed.' Thor didn't bother to lower his voice; he didn't care whether the enemies heard.

'These warriors are different.' Loki never took his eyes off the figure in the middle as if expecting it to charge, or jump, or cast a spell. 'They are the Other's elite guard and animated by his will.'

'The – who?' asked Tony.

'_The Other_,' said Loki, as if talking to a child.

Tony saved taking offense for later, 'Where does he come from, anyway? Why's he suddenly here?'

'He's not "here",' Loki replied patiently. 'It's only an illusion his mind generates from a world somewhere across the great void you call "space".'

'Asgardian,' hissed the Other. 'What happened in this place?'

Loki immediately turned his attention to the monster. _As if it does have some kind of authority,_ Tony thought, peeved. Already, that "Other" was rubbing him the wrong way.

'The long or the short version?' Loki asked. 'Your army failed, your mother ship was destroyed, and I was taken prisoner by the Avengers.'

'Avengerrrsss?'

'Think of them as a bunch of warriors – '

'_Team_,' corrected Tony. 'Actually, we're a team.'

Loki gave him a mean look, ' - a team of seven – '

'Six,' mumbled Thor.

'Anyway,' Loki said acidly to the Other, 'I assure you that _if and when they stop talking_ and spring into action they are quite a nuisance to deal with.'

'You promised a glorious battle, Asgardian,' hissed the monster. 'You said it would be victorious and not lengthy.'

'Well, it wasn't_ lenghty_.' Tony felt he should get involved, 'One out of three isn't too bad. I mean - the effort should count for something, no?'

'You have been warned of failure, Asgardian,' spat The Other. 'A fate worse than pain is what awaits you at the hands of our - '

Tony decided that "later" was now and being ignored so rudely _definitely_ made him take offense. He zapped the alien. The Other's outline blurred for a second then regained its shape.

_Illusion. Okay._

But -

'Thor?' asked Tony. He didn't know how to put it. But he thought that it might be a bit dangerous for Loki to use the distraction and run toward the Chitauri all on his own. He also thought that Thor might – no, _should_ want to do something about it.

But Thor just stood, his arms crossed, a confident smile playing on his lips, 'Loki can handle it.'

Tony was not sure at all, comparing the two towering monsters to the lean, already exhausted demi-god whom he had never seen use any weapon except for the scepter Loki no longer possessed...

But Loki did not attack in his Asgardian shape. He attacked in the form of six-hundred pounds of pure muscle power, covered with yellowish, black striped fur, and armed with a mouthful of teeth and sets of claws, each of the size and thickness of a human's thumb.

The left Chitauri's gun clattered to the ground, still clutched by the monster's severed hand. The warrior stumbled, went down and was buried under the trickster's now rather massive body. Loki dug his front claws into the monster's neck. His long, striped tail swished excitedly. The second alien aimed his gun. Amber eyes turned his direction. The tail swished even more lively.

'Tiger,' said Tony, flabbergasted, '_Tiger, tiger, burning bright...in the forests of the night..._'

'Tiger? That's how this beast is called?' Thor watched with professional approval as his brother took down the second Chitauri. Took him apart, more correctly speaking. 'Do they usually live in this city?'

'I think they have one or two in the zoo. – _Ouch._ You seen that? That's what I call "one bad-tempered member of the species of _panthera_". How did he do that?'

'Loki's a shapeshifter. One of the best of Asgard.' Thor gave Tony a quick look. 'Didn't you know?'

Tony shook his head. _No, he hadn't known, but he thought someone ought to have told him._ The idea of a shape-shifting enemy infiltrating the Avenger team shocked him even in hindsight. Imagine fighting side by side with Thor who wasn't Thor at all... and finding out at the worst possible moment, like an enemy's gun trained at your head or something...

'Well,' said Thor nonchalantly, 'looks like he forgot to tell his allies as well.'

'Hold that thought. Where'd that Darth Sidious ghost clone disappear to?' Tony turned, searching for the Other. He was just in time to see the pale hand that had come up behind Thor. It seemed to hover there like a freeze frame from some horror movie, as the second stretched into infinity. Yet, it was too short for Tony to give a warning cry, before time sped up again. The Other's six fingers clutched the side of the thunderer's face. Thor gave a gurgling sound and arched his back. Tony's first reflex was to fire at the Chitauri. Of course, he realized his mistake instantly, even before the illusion wavered and returned to its ugly form, undamaged. But the chance for intervening was lost. Horrified, Tony watched Thor's eyes glaze over blue.

'How many times have I told you to stay away from magic users?' The melancholy, smooth voice from the cat/trickster's mouth reminded Tony of the tiger villain from the Jungle Book.

_So, it was Tom the Talking Tiger now,_ Tony reflected distractedly. Thor, however, was utterly unimpressed by his brother's faked sadness. He shook himself and roared, thrashing blindly for the alien that could not be hurt by physical means. He looked like he was about to split the seams of his clothing; his muscles were bulging wildly as he strained physically in order to fight the psychical assault. The Other stood in the distance and chuckled silently to himself.

'That's it,' Tony cheered Thor on. 'You got to resist him.'

'Try-ing to!' confirmed Thor.

'Banner would know how to deal with this,' Tony said. 'You might say he's an expert.'

'Go awayyy!' roared Thor.

'To get Banner, you mean? You want me to do that?'

'Stop him from leaving, Asgardian,' said the Other.

Tony pointed both his hands at his chest, as if to say, _Me? I'm harmless._

Fighting the Other's increasing hold on his mind, Thor roared at the sky, _'Gaaaah!'_

Tony ignited the thrusters to get out of reach, if not of the Mjolnir then of the thunderer's big fists. He was not fast enough. Thor grabbed him by the left leg and whirled him about. The displays inside Tony's visor went wild, then adapted.

'He-help,' he croaked, expecting to be smashed to the ground. But Thor still resisted The Other's silent command. Giving another wild roar, he slammed the Mjolnir first into a lamp post that broke like a match, then into the street. And up again, in a shower of debris from the cracked asphalt.

'That's good, let it all out...'

'Sir,' said JARVIS, 'the pattern of Mister Odinson's neural activity is undergoing substantial changes at amazing speed.'

'I – WILL NOT – GIVE IN!'

'I appreciate that attitude in a guy, really,' Tony assured him, then twisted and turned in search of Loki, 'Shere Khan? You watching?' As far as Tony could see the trickster was ripping out the second Chitauri's throat. Ripping off his head? Doing something very raw and violent, at any rate. If he even noticed Iron Man's fix he seemed to think that it could wait. He'd gone down into that valley of humiliation and pain at the Hulk's mercy and come out the other side with only a scratch or two, after all.

'Reindeer Games!' Tony's horizon tilted again. 'Talking Tiger! _Tom!_'

Much to Tony's surprise, Loki actually answered, '_What?!_'

'Your brother's possessed.'

'Because he's flinging things about?' Loki creased his muzzle. 'I fail to notice any difference to his usual behavior.'

'He's flinging_ me_ about! Got any advice?'

'Hang on, and good luck.'

Tony realized that no help was coming from the trickster. So, he started to think creatively. He remembered Thor stumble ever so slightly after descending from Stark Tower. He remembered Loki grabbing Thor's side, the trickster's low, venomous voice, _'Does it hurt?_' – just before Thor hit him. The slap that took everyone by surprise because no-one really thought Thor would actually raise his hand against his younger brother when not geared for battle.

Except – let's assume he_ was_ taken by surprise? What if he'd acted on reflex, because it actually_ hurt_?

Tony fired a short, well-aimed energy bolt at the thunderer's left side. Thor blinked and clutched at his ribs. The eerie dead blue color seemed to flow from his eyes like a wave washing off the shore.

'That helped,' he huffed. 'Do it again!'

Tony did.

_'Again!'_

'Listen, Blue Bird, if I keep going you'll be roasted like - '

_'AGAIN!_' roared Thor.

But it was Loki, back to human form, who attacked him from the side and elbowed him in the ribs. This time, Thor would not shout to repeat the treatment, as he stumbled backward. Tony was free of the hand on his ankle and crashed to the ground. He scrambled to his feet - and found the alien with the hooded face right in front of him. The Other gave a nasty hiss and raised his deadly pale hand.

Again, Loki was on the guard, jerking Tony out of the monster's way. The trickster slid between the Other and the mortal.

'Try taking on someone who's not armoured,' he suggested, a little illogical, perhaps, but not much less impressive for it.

The Other did not hesitate and clutched the side of the trickster's face, just as he had done in his attempt to control Thor. There was a flash of blue light expanding around Loki's head and hovering there. _Flickering. Hovering._ Fading and gaining strength once more...

A mocking smile came to the pale god's lips. 'Surprise,' he whispered.

'How can it be?' hissed the Other. 'How can you resist?'

Loki reached up and clutched the Other just like the monster held him. Somehow, he didn't seem affected by the illusion's insubstantiality. Within seconds, a magical struggle for dominance was raging between the two, the extent of which Tony could only randomly guess at. The element of surprise, it seemed, was on Loki's side.

'I learned how to own you, Asgardian,' spat the Other. 'I studied you, and you are weak. I learned how to own you when you are awake. I know how to own you when you are asleep. Whether you are seething with anger, glorying in triumph or writhing in pain, my mind has learned how to reach and to own yours.' His voice rose to a wail, 'Why do you feel so alien now? So _garbled_?'

Tony suddenly caught on. 'Because he is,' he said, shrugging. 'Looks like my single-malt turned his brains into a fuzzy ball of cotton wool you find extremely difficult to handle.'

'That was the plan,' Loki claimed, grinning madly.

'No, it wasn't,' said Tony.

'Will you stop this pesky backtalk, human? Of course, it was.'

'Not a good plan, then,' Tony pointed out. 'Because we know you can't focus with a fuzzy ball of cotton wool instead of - '

As he spoke, Loki's smirk turned into a grimace of pain. The Other triumphed and moved forward as if this fight really were about gaining physical ground. Tony gave a small whimper: Loki's eyes had started to turn blue. _Two crazy Norse gods to deal with. JARVIS, I hope you did not neglect your latest upgrade..._

'Surprise!' Snarling, Loki stepped forward and slammed something he held hidden in his right fist into the monster's face. The Other screeched. Dark blood fountained from his face and splattered on the God of Mischief, who did not look like fun and goofing around at all. Gritting his teeth with effort and fury, Loki drove his tool deeper into what had to be the Other's left eye. Stuff that Tony did not want to know the nature of spurted from the Other's face. The alien clawed at the trickster, forcing Loki to lean back in order to avoid getting his own eye poked out by the flailing hands. The Other's magic hit him, driving a long white-hot needle of pain through his temples. Loki's eyelids fluttered shut as he mumbled magical words of his own, summoning more power to assist him. The Other writhed, screaming on top of his respiratory organs, whatever they might be. It did not help Tony to know that the creature's physical body was safe and unharmed and all of this gross maiming action only an illusion: His hair stood on end at the sound of that scream. Where-ever the Other was located, light years away and, possibly, dimensions apart, he was in a lot of pain.

Suddenly, his form dissolved and simply vanished.

Loki stumbled as the resistance gave way. In his hand was the amulet Thor had given him, the dragon tooth blessed with Odin's magic. The formerly smooth tooth looked porose and lusterless. The silver work was blackened as if with age. Loki looked down at it, stroking the frayed leather strap with his thumb.

'Created, summoned and bound to protect Allfather's son. Who would have surmised redemption would come in this form, _your_ power and _my_ calling on it?' Loki crushed the worn amulet between his fingers. 'You fulfilled your purpose. You may leave this realm. I, Loki, of Asgard set you free.' There was a strange sigh on the sudden gust of wind that blew the dust away. Loki turned up his face to look at the darkening sky as if following the flight of some creature, spirit or demon only he could see.

'_Free,_' he whispered like an afterthought. His eyes, Tony saw with relief, had returned to green again. Dark from exhaustion and a little glazed over, but green.

'When you're done celebrating, give me a hand with Blue Bird here.' Tony stood before Thor who sat on the ground, looking dazed. The blue in his eyes was slow to disappear.

Loki hardly gave the matter a look. 'I recommend you hit him over the head with something large and heavy.'

'Like what?'

'Like "something large and heavy". Norn's spindles, human, I thought English was your native tongue? What part did you find unintelligible?' Loki was really fed up with stupid questions tonight. Although he might not have Thor's great strength, he_ could_ lift up a mortal and slam him into things, living or inanimate, too...

'No, waaaaiiiiit – ' Tony was already sprawled on top of Thor while he was still giving his shout of surprise and protest. His displays flickered and shut down altogether. 'JARVIS! Reboot. _Reboot!_'

Loki saw the light go out in the Iron Man's eyes. His own knees felt strangely weak, and he went to sit on the ground with a great air of cynicism. Making sure it looked like he was _patiently_ waiting for his brother and the human to sort themselves out, instead of just being happy to feel the solidity of the ground. He _was_ feeling a little dizzy. There were no voices in his thoughts, hissing, spitting, talking to him of revenge, and justified hate, and the need to go to war, to seize and vindicate what should have been his by right. Loki was alone in his own head, for the first time in months. Alone with the soft whining sound that now came from his own chest, and the sickening taste of metal in his mouth.

He had not meant to actually use the tiger's teeth on the Chitauri elite warrior. But the situation had become so precarious so quickly. When Thor threatened to fall under the Other's control, Loki had seen no option but to severe the creature's throat in a quick and violent action.

Tony Stark stood before him, his malfunctioning faceplate open. He was offering a battered plastic water bottle. Probably picked it up somewhere, as fleeing humans had left many things behind: hats, bags, papers, toys, earphones, even shoes and cell phones.

'Don't swallow that freaky shit,' Stark said. 'Might get you pregnant.'

'I am surprised that you of all loose people are obviously missing a significant fact,' mumbled Loki, fighting a sudden wave of nausea and refusing to cringe.

'Yeah,' said the obnoxious mortal. 'I'm sure that's what you said when that horny-like-shit stallion was after you. The one who sired that spider-thing on you.'

_'What?'_

'Eight-legged horse?' prompted Stark and raised his hand as if to beg pardon. 'According to legend. Not me. _Legend_.'

He offered Loki the bottle more urgently.

Giving Stark his best defiant look, Loki snatched the bottle from him. He took a mouthful of water, swished it around and spit it out. Then another. Then, something inside him broke, and suddenly, he was coughing. Choking. He leaned forward, nauseous with disgust, desperate to get it all out. He swore, he drowned. _More water._ He rinsed and spluttered, and finally, he employed magic to make sure not the tiniest drop, not even a molecule of Chitauri entered his inside – The air started to crackle, as he grew frenzied, summoning more and more magic to himself, _draining_ this realm that had not much to offer in the first place. Somewhere, one of the last intact window panes burst and rained on the street in millions of tiny glass fragments.

'Loki!' Strong hands shook him by the shoulder. 'Loki, enough!'

'_ - not enough, no -_ ' He wanted to shake his head. But how could he do so, when his _dear brother_'s hand clamped the back of his neck like a steel vice? Yet, it did even more, this hand, just by holding on. Without noticing, Loki leaned into the touch, seeking his brother's support and drawing on his stability. The flow of magic inverted on itself, receding so the trickster was left weakened and panting for breath.

'Okay,' said Stark's voice nearby. 'Plastic-bag. Move over, Big Bro.'

'What - are you talking about?' Loki managed to get out between his gasps for air. As he came to, he moved away from Thor, refusing to accept the solace.

'You started to hyperventilate,' said Stark, stopping in his movement of stretching a plastic bag between his hands. 'Putting a bag over people's head is what usually helps. Before they pass out.'

Loki shook his head, forcing himself to stop gulping air. His head was spinning, and his body tingled. But he was not going to faint. How could he lose consciousness, when he felt like he had woken up only now? _The Chitauri were gone._ Not only from this world, but from his mind. He was still here. The Other was not. The place in Loki's mind that the monster had forced him to keep open and receptive for telepathic communication at all times was abandoned, a piece of burnt, corroded waste land in the dreamscape of the trickster's subconscious.

Loki realized that he would have to do something about himself, his erratic intake of air, before he got it done _to_ himself by his brother and Stark.

He slid a hand on his diaphragm and, closing his eyes, continued breathing against the gentle pressure of his own palm. _Don't inhale too deeply, don't gasp. There. That's how it's done..._ One minute, two, and the dizziness and tension subsided, leaving him feeling strangely detached. Easy-going, almost. Like he almost could believe it was all a humongous misunderstanding that would sort itself out, once they all sat down and talked it over. He told himself that he had not really gotten much sleep lately, so this craziness was probably fatigue getting to him, at last. Another part of him told him to stop analyzing. He was in the street, alive and _left_ _alone in his own head_, wasn't that enough gained for one day?

'Let's return to Tony Stark's place,' he heard Thor say. 'You need to clean up. Get some rest, before we return to Asgard.'

'Rest,' echoed Loki. 'I will have an eternity to rest. In Asgard's dungeons. These are my last hours in freedom, do you not think so?' He looked about as if he were missing something and hoping to find it lying in the distance. 'Can we not go and do something fun? Pick up that debris over there and reassemble it in creative new ways? Maybe build a tower just like his - ' he nodded his head at Tony, 'only higher? With my name on it?'

Thor said, 'I'm afraid – '

'Alright. With both our names on it?'

'Sorry, brother,' said Thor, sadly. 'I think you spoiled that option, whose-o-ever names you wanted your tower to sport.'

Loki considered that, and considered very carefully. 'Could I at least have something to eat, then?' he asked, hopefully.

'That can be arranged for.' Thor moved to put his hand on his brother's shoulders. 'You should've reminded us of that before. Drinking on an empty stomach is never recommendable.'

Loki evaded Thor's touch casually by climbing to his feet. Still, a look of curiosity crossed over his pale face, 'What's that Shawarma?'

'It's good,' said Thor, his voice without resonance. 'Good...' He sighed, dropping his hand to his lap. His eyes searched for Tony.

'I get it.' Tony raised his gloved hands. 'Just stay here for a minute. Don't move away. - Talking to you, Reindeer Games,' he called after Loki who was all but sleepwalking in the direction of Stark Tower.

'We will meet at your place,' Thor decided.

'Meet? I got your word? Only meet? No reassembling it in creative ways? Putting anyone's names on it and inviting funny aliens to play and take a shot at world dominion, while I'm gone?'

'Do not fear, Tony Stark. All we're going to do is take one of the things called "shower".'

'Oh,' said Tony. 'Good. Plenty of those available. Levels eighty-seven to ninety, and everywhere in between, too. Just tell JARVIS. He's my – '

'_Oh, yes._ We've met,' said Loki with more than just a hint of his usual sneer.

Tony was the tiniest bit concerned when the A.I.'s voice inside his helmet answered, indifferently, '_Indeed._'

+++ End of Chapter 4 +++

* * *

A/N: Lots of references in this chapter. "The Jungle Book" by Rudyard Kipling (and therein the tiger Shere Khan) is probably about as well known as is the character of "Darth Sidious" from the Star Wars Saga. The poem, Tony starts to quote is "The Tyger" by William Blake.

Hope you'll be back for the next chapter!


	5. Geese don't go Plop - Fluff!

Hi everybody. It's nice to see so many of you reading on - and thank you, pallyndrome, for reviewing. I would that more readers followed your example: Everyone, please R & R! :)

Also, thanks to you, Bibi, for your input. Looking forward to hearing your opinion on the scene we discussed. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Loki, Thor, Tony Stark or any other character featured in this story, I hold no rights to any of them. I do not make money out of this.

* * *

**+++Chapter 5: Geese Don't Go "Plop - Fluff"! +++**

The glass doors to the lobby of Stark Tower opened automatically to admit the two demi-gods.

'Welcome to Stark Tower,' a friendly female voice said.

Loki turned back to Thor. 'Have you ever stopped and wondered just how many different doors the Midgardians have devised?'

'It... must've slipped my attention,' said Thor grumpily.

'Welcome to Stark Tower,' the friendly female voice repeated without the slightest change of modulation.

'I've been around this place for only a couple of days,' Loki went on, 'and I've encountered doors to be opened with numerical codes - ,' (_Welcome to Stark Tower!_), ' - keywords, voice commands, ID cards, finger prints, retina scans - or just by approaching them.'

'Welcome to Stark Tower,' said the female voice. Thor imagined he heard a slight edge of impatience in her tones. Loki took a step back. The door closed. He leaned forward, eyeing the motion sensor. The door opened.

'Welcome to - '

'I think I fell in love with her voice.' Loki grinned. 'I could do that all night.'

'_Will you just step through that door?!_' Thor was short of putting his hand flat against his brother's back and simply pushing him forward. Loki sauntered through the lobby, pretending to take in the scenario, the polished counter, the fountain, the potted trees, the plush seats. But his nonchalance was faked and every step weighted down with fatigue. Thor knew without consciously thinking about it - you couldn't be as close to someone as Loki and he had once been and not pick up a thing or two about body language - and he followed behind in Loki's own time. They stopped in front of the elevator.

'After all that transpired today...' Loki looked sceptically at the narrow cabin, 'You know, if you and I can get in there together - and emerge both unscathed - then we can probably survive most anything.'

'Get in,' said Thor harshly.

The ride was an awkward affair that made Thor wish he had decided to fly them up to the landing area. The elevator was playing soft music. Loki leaned against the wall, giving Thor nasty looks from the corner of his eyes. Thor kept his eyes on the display above the door, reading the number of the floors as the elevator continued to rise... floor 12, 39, 54...

'Level 87,' JARVIS said. 'On exiting, please turn left. You will find bathroom number 144 behind the fifteenth door, left hand side. If you wish, just follow the illuminated signs on the walls...'

Loki had started walking before the A.I. finished. But the voice followed them nevertheless. The door in question opened for them like it was all part of a well-rehearsed choreography.

While Loki gave the room only the quickest of surveys, Thor stood and took his time looking about. This bathroom was nearly as spacious as his own princely bedchamber back home in Asgard. It featured a shower, several wash basins, a kidney-shaped bath tub of pool-like dimensions and a jacuzzi. The air was pleasantly warm. There were soft carpets to make walking around bare-footed more comfortable. In addition, the floor itself was warm as if there were fires kept going under the tiles. There were the voices of birds and the sounds of rustling leaves and running water, mixed with soft flute music. It took Thor a moment to realize that it was only another illusion of this realm. There were no birds present, and the water would only start running when he opened the faucets.

'Stop the music,' Thor said, just to see if his order would make a difference in this place of technological wonders. The sound effects stopped.

Loki all but collapsed on one of the rattan chairs in front of the steps that led up to the jacuzzi. Thor allowed himself a few moments to roll his shoulders and relished the feeling of having reached some kind of resting place at last. Then, he started to take off his brother's coat.

'Don't do that,' Loki said, but he said it without much conviction.

'These clothes need cleaning. Just like you do. There's Chitauri blood all over you.'

Loki shivered: _As if he needed to be reminded of that!_ Yielding to Thor's effort, he slipped out of the sleeves. Thor hung the coat over the thing he had defined a bath tub of sorts. Then he brushed aside the dark hair, looking for a way to open the strip of rune-decorated metal Loki wore about his neck.

'No.' Loki's hand clasped his wrist. 'You big oaf, have you learned nothing? Don't touch my belongings.'

'But - '

'I'll do it myself. Get me a bag, or something.'

Thor picked up a towel and held it between his hands to go for a container. Loki reached up and behind his neck, taking the artefact off. He also produced a couple of throwing knives and lined them up neatly on the step of the jacuzzi. Next came a small leather bag of unknown contents that hung on a leather string from his neck. The dried wing of a strange, sparrow-sized bird. A mummified lizard of a species Thor had not seen before. Pieces of a dead dragonfly. Several stones with runes painted on or etched in... Loki removed his magical items with a solemn air to his every movement. Some came with a warning ('Don't touch that scorpion's sting. It was a hassle to procure, so I wouldn't want to waste the venom on you just now.' – 'This rune must always be stored upside down, mind you. _No!_ Upside down. The other way round.'). But most of them he merely placed into the makeshift bag Thor held out to him.

Finally there was nothing to strip off of him but his shirt and his pants. Thor had no reservations. They had seen each other naked more times than he would ever be able to count. He helped Loki remove the garments and, because he knew his brother's opinion on this, he folded them neatly. While he was busy, Loki padded over to the shower cabin. It wasn't a cabin in the original sense though, more like a shower area defined by three walls that met at angles slightly wider than ninety degrees to create an impression of commodiousness. The walls were gray slate, probably forming a nice cataract once the water came from the huge shower head above. The floor was slightly lower in the corner with the drain, so the water would not flood the entire room.

Loki gave the affair a quick survey just to understand what was going to happen and how. Then he placed his foot on the dark floor. And the other.

A number of hidden lights came on in the ceiling, imitating the sparkle of crystals set in a cave dome.

Loki turned his face up, '_Oh, please!' _he said to the atmospheric illumination._  
_

'You ready?' asked Thor. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on the water like he had learned to do at Jane Foster's place. The torrent of water hit Loki and drenched him faster than he could give a yelp of protest. He slumped with his back against the wall, closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, then continued to breathe through his mouth. He raised both hands, moved them over his face and slicked back his soggy hair.

'Close your mouth, brother. Here comes the soap.' Thor squeezed one of Tony's shampoo bottles and worked a handful into Loki's hair. He always felt intrigued by the way these Midgardian cleansing lotions turned into myriads of tiny bubbles. He continued to rub, automatically assuming that lots of foam guaranteed for lots of dirt removed. Then he turned away, looking for something to clean the cuts on Loki's face and body.

He found a washcloth just as he heard a sound of surprise. Turning around, he saw that Loki had opened his eyes to find a soap bubble soaring in the air before him. The trickster instantly looked enchanted, as if mesmerized by the iridescent surface. He raised his hand slowly, palm turned up. The bubble started to grow and soar upward, as if pushed on by the movement of his hand. More bubbles joined in the ascent. Loki formed his hands into a bowl, and the bubbles began a merry dance above his palms...

Thor allowed himself a smile. Few people knew or would have suspected. But there was a playful side to Loki's character just waiting to be awakened. Mocking, yes. Mischievous - malevolent, yes, all of that and worse. But also creative, constructive... inspired by an ingenuity that seemed to happen naturally when testing the limits became a game in its own right. As far as Thor could think back, Loki had always been at play, not only with toys but with words and people. Thor and his warrior friends played, too. But that was different. Loki was not in a competitive way, he'd never been. Until recently, about two years back.

Thor slid his hand to the wound in his side, where Loki had stabbed him during battle. His secret smile faded.

_When had his brother's attitude changed?_

_When had Loki's games become so deadly serious, so horribly real?_

At the touch of his hand, the wound sent a stinging pain all the way up to his throat. So far, Thor had been able to fight it. But it kept getting worse. At the shawarma joint it had made itself known more urgently, pushing into his conscious thoughts and settling there in an annoying, rather distracting manner. By now, he found it impairing his fighting skills; it slowed him down. If it hadn't been for Tony Stark, his brother might have plunged to his death (or _really bad injury_, at least) when he stepped through the broken window. It had hurt badly, getting hit first by Tony Stark and then by Loki during Thor's struggle against the Other's assault on his mind. It had hurt, in fact, to a degree where Thor grew hesitant to use the Mjolnir to fly him and Loki back to the top of Stark Tower. Not that Loki would have assented, anyway. But that could be dealt with, one way or the other... More importantly, the thunderer was afraid to lose hold of his brother, conscious or otherwise, and involuntarily drop him.

Maybe a shower would help ease the pain. The Great Ash knew, he deserved to rinse off the filth of battle, too.

Loki had abandoned dallying with the bubbles and was back to simply enjoying the water. He seemed not nearly done, so Thor decided to get in with him.

In spite of his heavy armor parts to remove, the thunderer was stripped naked in less than two minutes. He set aside the metal breast plate and made a big bundle of his clothing. Then, he also picked up the neat bundle he had made of Loki's garments, and called, '_Servant!_'

JARVIS switched on the comm, 'Yes, Mr. Odinson? How can I be of assistance?'

'I have clothing to clean.' Thor presented the ball of cloth in the direction the bodiless voice came from. Six metallic robot arms sunk down from the ceiling and reached for the bundle. Their eager movements reminded Thor of a spider's legs about to wrap up a caught fly. Alarmed, he pulled back his belongings. The mechanical arms nevertheless grabbed hold of the bundle, starting a tug-of-war.

'Sir,' said JARVIS mildly, 'You need to let go.'

'But how can I be sure - ' Thor began.

"Plop", said something behind him. "_Fluff_."

He thought it another sound effect.

'Er... sir,' said JARVIS. 'You seem to be standing in a whirlwind of high quality eider down.'

'Wasn't that you?' Thor looked about, marveling at the feathers raining down on him. He plucked one from his beard and looked at it from close-up. 'Some strange idea of entertainment, imitating snowfall?'

The robot arms gained control of the bundle and quickly abducted it toward a flap in the ceiling.

'Thor?' Loki peered around the shower area's wall, but there was too much water in his eyes to make anything out. 'I did tell you to keep this rune stone upside down at all times, didn't I?'

'Assuming I, er, didn't heed your advice?' Thor couldn't take his eyes off the fake snow whirling. 'What might be the effect?'

'Well, it would make everything it touched turn inside out after a random span of time. I endeavored to make it calculable, but - ' Loki rubbed the water from his eyes and blinked sheepishly. 'Oh, by the norns, you put it on a _goose_!'

'Geese don't go "plop – _fluff_",' said Thor reasonably. 'I think it was the pillow on that stool I put your stuff on.'

'_Don't touch my stuff!_' Loki made room for Thor who stepped in the shower with him. 'Don't you touch these dials, either. I'm warning you!'

'But the water is freezing. I want to relax my muscles, not exercise.'

Naked, bruised, soaked, with waterdrops hanging in his very eyelashes, Loki still managed to look fairly dignified as he steepled his fingers to indicate_ patience unending _winding down to plain exasperation, 'Listen, _brother_. We've been through this before. We've been through it time and again, ever since early childhood, actually. _The water is perfect._'

'It's perfect_ now_.'

_'It's scalding hot!'_ Wincing, Loki reached up and froze the hose. Now, it was Thor yelling under a torrent of ice water. As he turned for the temperature controls, something caught the trickster's eye, 'Is this the wound where I stabbed you?'

'Don't try to get me distracted.' Thor was turning the controls as frantically as futilely, but in between he still found the time to throw the soaked washcloth at his brother. 'You know it is.'

With casual grace Loki caught the washcloth in one hand and pointed with the other, 'Yes, but do _you_ know the blade was cursed?'

'A curse to aid your blade of steel in case it failed?' Thor asked, bitter. 'There's no limit to your desire for seeing me dead, is there, _brother_?'

'Seeing you dead is not the point.' A sardonical smile spread on the trickster's face. 'Seeing you die is. This curse will finish you off in a matter of days, one week at most. I could say for sure, if you let me see the wound.'

'Brother - '

'Is it going to happen?' Loki's voice was a mocking half-whisper, 'Will the great Thor appeal to his evil brother for help? Are you going to ask me to use my powers and snatch you away from the brink of death? Go ahead, do i- ' Vengeance hit like a steam hammer. At first Loki thought, Thor had struck him with the Mjolnir. There was a deafening noise in his ears, and he felt dazed. But when suddenly there was water everywhere, in his eyes, his nose, _his ears_ – he realized that the thunderer had merely trained the shower head at him.

_Merely? _Thor had managed to make the thing blast water like the blowholes of the great whales that lived in Asgard's sea. The hard jet pummeled Loki's skin, his face, his bruised ribs and knocked the breath out of him. Coughing, he staggered back until his hip collided with a wash basin. He turned to the wall and brought up his elbow to shield his face. Thor directed the jet of water away.

'Curses are usually broken by the sorcerer's death,' he said.

Loki, half drowned, wound his arm protectively round his hurting ribs, '_What?_'

'I'll go for the kill.' Thor turned the jet of water back at his brother. Driven by magic, the soaked washcloth hit him full in the face.

'Curse you,' Loki choked.

'Kill,' spluttered Thor, homing in on the direction of his brother's voice.

'Curse you!' Loki slipped away sideways.

_Water left!_ Thor could rely on his warrior's instincts to follow the movements of an escaping foe... Truth be told, it wasn't _that_ hard, with Loki retching like he was going to throw up his lungs.

The soaked washcloth was magically pulled back, just to hit Thor again. And again...

_Silence...unexpected and uncanny...  
_

Thor squinted.

_Oh._

The washcloth was stuck in the water-jet, soaking up new fuel.

_... and again!_

* * *

Tony Stark had never expected to stand on the landing area and take a deep breath before entering his own tower.

'Welcome home, Mr. Stark,' said JARVIS, starting the de-suiting routine.

'And aren't we glad it still exists?' said Tony, releasing his breath. Of course, JARVIS missed the irony. The A.I.'s mechanical arms took the bags of food from Tony's arms to remove the suit, then hovered, waiting.

'Arrange the food in the lounge,' said Tony and stepped in. He found Rogers and Banner in the seats before the fireplace. Banner was sifting through a medical magazine. Rogers was toying with a cell phone, trying to figure out the function keys. Tony felt tempted to tell him that trying to approach these things without the assistance of Pepper or a manual thicker than the N.Y. business directory was as good as fighting a lost battle.

'Hi, guys,' he said, 'Have you seen our Nordic guests?'

'Already looked behind the counter?' asked Rogers.

'Huh?' Tony gave the line of bottles on display a nervous look. 'Oh. It was a joke._ Please._ Tell me it was a joke.'

'Thor and Loki are in one of the bathrooms,' said Banner. 'We've followed them around the building via JARVIS' cameras. But we signed off when they entered the bathroom.'

Tony looked utterly amazed, 'You did? _Why?_'

Banner shrugged, 'This is not jail or something. Got to have some privacy. We figured it sufficient, if JARVIS kept in contact.'

'They looked horrible. Especially Loki,' said Rogers. 'JARVIS filled us in on what happened. Still, I'd feel more relaxed, if that guy was safely on his way to his dad.'

'Stepdad,' Tony corrected automatically.

'Actually, my emphasis was on "safely",' Rogers said stiffly.

'Sir?' said JARVIS. 'We've got a situation in bathroom number 144.'

Tony felt his heart rate sky-rocket. 'A situation? What kind of situation?'

A surveillance screen came alive in front of him: It showed Thor getting repeatedly slapped by a fierce and soggy washcloth. Loki could be seen dashing for the jacuzzi and skidding on his knees the last meters to saftey from the water-jet his brother was directing at him.

'Ah,' said Tony. 'A "two-naked-immortals-trying-to-drown-each-other" kind of situation. JARVIS? _Why_ are they naked?'

'Mr. Odinson saw to it that their clothes get cleaned.' After all these years, JARVIS really got the hang of conspirational undertones, didn't he? 'He made a bundle of their garments.'

'I see,' said Tony. 'Could you retrieve_ it_?'

'Of course, sir.'

On-screen, Loki started flinging fruit-shaped bars of guest soap from a large, decorative glass bowl that no guest must actually touch. _Oh, Pepper would not be happy..._

'Did Loki notice you taking _it_?'

'Positively not, sir.'

Thor, under siege by the washcloth and a fruit-shaped-soap-barrage, blindly grabbed for something to fling back. It happened to be a bath brush. It hit the wall behind Loki, ricochetted and hit the trickster in the head. The camera caught him reeling from the impact.

Banner twitched in professional alarm.

'Relax,' said Rogers. 'Could've been the hammer.'

The soap under Thor's feet started to froth up. He slipped and barely caught his balance.

'Oh, look,' said Tony. 'Bad plan. _Baaad plan_ - whew.' He gave a little whistle between his teeth, as Loki put down the empty glass bowl instead of attacking Thor with it. 'Saved yourself a messy death at Pepper's hands.'

'Or rather, saving himself from cutting his own feet on glass shards later,' muttered Rogers.

'That, of course, is the less esoteric reasoning ...'

'Looks like they're sorting it out,' said Banner.

Things in bathroom number 144 really seemed to settle down a bit. Thor turned off the water. Loki crawled out from his cover behind the jacuzzi. Their gestures suggested they were negotiating a temporary truce.

'What are those pieces of white fluff on the ground?' asked Banner.

'Cotton wool,' muttered Tony. 'Knocked out of Loki's skull.'

JARVIS spoke up before Rogers and Banner could turn their surprised looks into questions, 'Sir, an eider down pillow chose to explode when exposed to one of Mr. Loki's, er, magical items.'

'How does a pillow choose to explode?'

'Very much like this.' JARVIS replayed the audio tape, ' "Plop" – "_Fluff_".'

'I get the idea. Thank you.' Tony was distracted: On the screen, an undressed Loki started to go to one knee before an equally stark naked Thor. He reconsidered, however, and instead of lowering himself in front of his brother, pulled up a chair. He turned it around and sat, leaning his arm on the backrest. He seemed to focus his gaze on Thor's rather impressive midriff. Next, he reached out and put his index finger to Thor's stomach, then, slowly, almost languidly, he traced the line of Thor's lower ribs to the thunderer's side.

'Oh,' said Banner. Rogers shifted nervously.

Tony raised his eyebrows, 'Er... JARVIS? Far be it from me to eavesdrop, but - c_an we get an audio_?'

Instantly, Loki's voice came from the A.I.'s hidden speakers, soft and silky, 'Four days, if you return to Asgard. Less, if you stay. Magic can run its course rather freely in this realm, because there's so little resistance to overcome.' He looked up. 'It might be a good idea to bid your darling mortal farewell.'

Thor's voice carried an unmistakable edge of concern, in spite of his airy reply, 'I am not on my death bed yet.'

'What are they talking about?' asked Rogers.

'This,' said Tony. He enlarged the picture, so they could all see the cut in the thunderer's side. Tony swallowed: Thor had told him about "a little sting, nothing more". But even in monochrome this looked bad, like a wound about to become gangrenous when, according to JARVIS, it was merely a couple of hours old. Loki's finger was obviously probing the inflamed edge.

'I - don't understand,' said Banner. 'What the heck_ is_ that?'

Patiently, JARVIS explained, 'It appears that Mr. Odinson received a wound in battle that Mr. Loki considers poisoned.'

'Loki spoke of "magic",' Tony pointed out.

'There is no such thing as magic, Mr. Stark,' said JARVIS stiffly.

'_Clonk_,' went something off-screen. It was the sound of painful metallic death. '_Creeeak._'

Loki turned his head slowly to look to the left. 'You,' he said to Thor, 'didn't exactly think of turning the rune stone around after it had come to lie on the seat of that stool, did you?'

'Neither did you,' Thor said, but he looked guilty.

Like one man, Tony, Steve and Bruce looked up to where JARVIS' voice had last come from.

'_There has to be an explanation_,' said the A.I. and sank into what Tony thought best described as sulky silence.

+++End of Chapter 5 +++


	6. Are we desperate? Oh no Nooo

Hi everybody. Thanks for reading, and thank you, Lifou, for reviewing. I'm glad you enjoy the story (and the chapter titles :), I have fun picking them, too) and I'll do my best to live up to your and the other readers' expectations.

Disclaimer: I do not own Loki, Thor, Tony Stark or any other character featured in this story, I hold no rights to any of them. I do not make money out of this.

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+++Chapter 6: "Are We Desperate? Oh no. _Nooo!_" +++

'Stop doing that.' Thor wriggled uneasily. 'It hurts.'

'You intuition was right.' Loki withdrew his hands. 'This wound gets worse as we speak, and it doesn't take well to magic. Traveling by the Tesseract's energy, you would not have reached Asgard looking like the champion you want the Asgardians and your father to see.'

'I am – the prince – Allfather's son.' Thor had trouble catching his breath. Something that Loki had done made him feel like the stab had finally found and pierced some vital organ. 'I – cannot – present myself – with a hand pressed – to my side.'

'You will.' Loki had neither sympathy, nor mercy to share. 'Unless you find someone to break the curse. And you'd better find them fast. Your time's running out.'

'_You_ undo it, brother. You know how. It's your spell.'

'I am too spent to work any more magic tonight.' Loki crossed his arms.

'You've been doing nothing but magic,' Thor said. 'Tonight, and all these days, weeks and probably months preceding the invasion. Don't tell me you've run out of stamina just now.'

Loki was enjoying this immensely, there was no doubt about it. He shook his head lightly, brow creased in fake regret. 'I may still be too drunk. I even have trouble remembering the Seventy Mysteries of the Wala.'

'I'm stone-cold sober and I couldn't remember seven of them for the life of me, no matter how they tried to make me learn them by heart,' Thor argued. This was leading nowhere. He knew it. But what was there left to him? He could hardly hit the sorcerer over the head with Mjolnir and expect _that_ to change Loki's mind. Or could he? _When they were kids together, it actually might have worked._

As the tempting thought crossed his mind, Thor saw the flaw in his reasoning: When they were kids, Loki still _cared_.

'Brother,' he said urgently. 'I'm not asking for recitals of ancient lore. I need to be healed.'

'I made you fall thirty thousand feet straight down in a glass cage just to see whether that would kill you.' Loki's eyes sparkled with glee. 'What makes you think I'll care, if you wither and die now?'

'A very good question, sir,' JARVIS said. 'But what makes you think you _don't_ care?'

Both, Loki and Thor, were surprised to hear the computerized voice speak up on its own.

'Servants should be seen, not heard,' said Loki curtly.

'The fact that it was he who stabbed me?' Thor suggested. A robot arm unfolded from the ceiling and provided dry towels. Thor took one and wrapped it around his hips. Loki looked puzzled by both, the interference and the white terry cloth. Then he remembered his exposed condition and conjured up clothes, green shirt and black leather pants, to materialize right on his body.

(In the lounge, Loki's simple solution of the dressing problem took the secret spectators by surprise. 'Guy's got a way with his wardrobe,' Tony commented. - 'Creating things out of thin air. Does he really turn magic... energy, mojo, whatever - into matter?' asked Banner. 'I mean, does that mean his clothes are but an illusion?' - ' I don't know,' said Rogers. 'But he did that with his armour and helmet, too. So if you're right...' They looked at each other. 'Now, _that's_ definitely something I'll check out next time,' Tony said.)

'I am aware of your actions,' JARVIS said to the two demi-gods in the bathroom. 'You were having it out on this building's platform, after all. And there is one thing I tried to fit into any algorithm known to me without reaching a satisfactory conclusion. Thus I assume it is a "psychological issue" that biological lifeforms so often base their decisions on. It has been bugging me, as the saying goes. Perhaps, if you would kindly try to explain it to me, Mr. Loki and Mr. Odinson?'

'My brother has a lot of issues the origins of which elude my understanding,' said Thor. 'But state your question, JARVIS.'

'Thor, I really would you kept your big – '

'Shut UP!'

'My records show each of you to be approximately one thousand earth years old,' JARVIS said. 'Please excuse my being frank about this, Mr. Loki. But you must have found out long ago that you don't stand a chance doing close-quarters combat with Mr. Odinson.'

'What do you mean, I don't stand a chance?' said Loki, making an effort not to let himself be provoked right away. First, he had to find out what this was about. 'I was trained in the arts of armed fighting just as he was.'

'I did not say you lacked the basic skills,' JARVIS said patiently. 'But I have analyzed your styles, and Mr. Odinson clearly is at an advantage. He is physically stronger, his mental disposition is that of a world-class athlete, he's got a superior weapon – and your bones just are more fragile.'

'They are _not_ fragile!' Loki protested with a small squeak of indignation.

'Not by human standards, no. Still, compared to the density of Mr. Odinson's osseous tissue you _are_ at a disadvantage. I am sorry, but this matter is decided by species-specific genetics, not sophisticated argument.' A hologram flickered to life in front of the two demi-gods: Thor holding Loki high up over his head and smashing him to the ground with brute force.

'There goes your left wrist,' JARVIS commented drily. 'The left cheekbone was cracked before, and some ribs lateron fell prey to the Hulk's onslaught. Ah. So the arm still does hurt, I see? A little?'

Looking embarrassed, Loki let go of his wrist which he had involontarily clasped on watching himself crash._ Always a bad idea, catching one's weight with one's hands._ It had healed fast enough, aided by magic. But there had been a critical moment when he landed on the Chitauri aircraft and only had one hand available for holding on and catching his balance.

'I guess I relied on Thanos' scepter to win the fight,' he said, preparing to direct the blame and shame of defeat away from his own person and to the tools he'd been given. It wasn't his fault if the stupid thing didn't work on Tony Stark, was it? Not his fault, if all it could do was mess with other people's minds and channel long-range telepathic communication from monsters no-one in their right mind wanted or needed to converse with, anyway.

'The scepter Agent Romanoff lateron used to close the portal? The scepter you left behind as you escaped from the roof?' JARVIS emphasized his meaning by projecting the scene as surveillance cameras had taped it: Loki rolling himself off the edge of the roof to get away from his enraged brother. The scepter remained lying on the roof.

Loki decided that he just didn't believe this was happening to him. Unfortunately, his brother jumped at the bait.

'He's got a point, Loki,' Thor said. 'It didn't occur to me before. But how could you, and in a situation like that, leave your weapon behind? Don't tell me you forgot.'

'He "forgot" his other weapon, too.' JARVIS lowered a robot arm and offered Loki one of his throwing knives. 'The blade he sunk in your side, Mr. Thor. You left it on the roof, too. I collected it.'

Loki seized the weapon and used it to severe the robot arm's wires. Then, hardly stopping to take aim, he flung it at the computer panel the artificial voice came from. The reinforced Stark Inc. plastic surface should not have broken, but it did anyway.

JARVIS should not have been able to continue after that. But, being a masterpiece of modern technology, he did anyway.

'Maybe one blade more or less didn't matter,' the A.I. said, smoothly activating another comm panel. 'Because, as you can see, Mr. Thor, he discarded no less than seven throwing knives before stepping into the shower. Each of them possibly deadly. If he had used them on you, following up the first stab.'

Loki picked up his knife, holding it like he would in preparation for another throw.

'Brother,' growled Thor. 'If you repeat your attack on Tony Stark's servant, I will break your genetically disadvantaged arm and still hear him out.'

'Hear_ him_ out?' Loki spun around and gestured with his blade, temper flaring, ' _"Him"_? Don't be silly. This voice is nothing but a talking machine! A bag of bolts, following its programming. How can_ it_ have to say anything of import?'

'Yet, its words do make sense,' Thor said thoughtfully. 'I remember the moment when you stabbed me. You had me doubling over in pain for three seconds. Three seconds can win a battle. You've been in enough fights to know that. You know what to do, when the opportunity arises.'

'Oh, that's awesome!' Sarcasm and anger blended to acid in Loki's voice. 'First, you lecture me on the use of magic. And now you tell me what _you_ think _I_ know about warfare!'

'You should have stabbed me again,' Thor said. 'You could have flung your other knives from the distance. Or you might have knocked me down from close range, using magic or your scepter. Damn, _you could've kneed me!_ Driven me back as I tried to regain my balance and knocked me off the roof! For Valhall's sake, Loki, _you didn't even try_!' (Loki opened his mouth to get a word in, but Thor ignored him as he talked himself into a rage.) 'You could have created an image of yourself to distract me, then attacked me from behind. You could have frozen me with your... personal skills, then made yourself to look like me. Under that guise, you could've taken down the Avengers one by one, and before anyone noticed, this city would've been yours.' Reaching the bottom line of his analysis, Thor looked at Loki with increduluous amazement. 'I don't believe in sudden bouts of appalling incompetence coupled with amnesia. Especially when it's you I'm talking about. _Loki._ You had about a dozen ways to disable me and win this battle. Why didn't you?'

'Three seconds, for blue sky's sake,' Loki spat. 'I simply wasn't fast enough!'

'Allow me to correct you,' JARVIS butted in smoothly. 'It would appear that Mr. Odinson has a point, and you are _much faster_ than that.'

In the air formed an image of Loki leaping, dodging, spinning and, following the movement in a fluent arc, throwing knives that hit men in SHIELD uniforms square in the head.

'What the fu- _fallacy_ - ' said Loki, whose act of impregnable arrogance crumbled by the second.

'There is no fallacy. I copied this footage when I accessed the SHIELD databases on Mr. Stark's order,' JARVIS explained. 'It shows your arrival on earth and the subsequent conquest of the tessaract. You moved exceedingly fast. And the scepter unfolded its hypnotic powers within seconds. Why didn't you use it on Mr. Odinson?'

'I will not be questioned by a machine!' shouted Loki.

'Then I will question you,' his brother rumbled. 'Because my strength at your command would have secured your victory. Just like you fighting for the Avengers' cause would have secured ours. Why, Loki? Why did you let that opportunity pass you by?'

'The magic of the scepter was designed for controling mortals,' Loki screamed. 'It was too weak to subdue you.'

'Funny,' said JARVIS. 'Only two minutes ago, you stated that you relied on the scepter's powers to win this battle.'

('_Touché_,' mumbled Tony in the lounge. 'Your computer's taking him apart,' said Rogers, wide-eyed, and 'I don't remember this ever happening to Captain Kirk,' said Banner.)

In bathroom number 144, the situation was escalating quickly.

'So let me get this straight,' Thor said menacingly like distant thunder closing in. 'You come to earth, armed with magic strong enough to tear apart space itself and control humans' minds. But you bring nothing, _nothing_ but your silver tongue and a couple of throwing knives to deal with _me_?!'

'I had an army – '

'A handful of blow flies buzzing about without strategy or objective,' Thor roared. 'Their strength was in numbers, not in their fighting. So, this is how the God of Mischief hopes to defy the God of Thunder? With nothing but blow flies, his words and five inches of cursed steel?'

('Sound the bell, ducky. Here we go again,' said Tony – 'One thousand years?' wondered Rogers. 'Seriously, does anyone see how they managed to survive the first dozen?' – 'They really shouldn't provoke Loki like that,' Banner said worried. 'Criminal or not, that guy's been through enough strain as it is.')

'How would I've known, you'd come here? I left you in Asgard with the Bifrost destroyed,' Loki screamed, madly.

'You, of all people, know there are ways to enter this realm,' Thor rumbled. 'You knew I would come!'

'Stop telling me what _you_ think_ I_ know!' Loki lifted his blade. Thor raised the Mjolnir.

The freeze frame of Thor hunched over with Loki's blade in his side re-appeared between them, effectively separating them.

'Now, if everyone calmed down,' said JARVIS' dry, absolutely unemotional voice. 'I would like to outline how discussion at this point has taken a remarkable turn - '

Thor tried to move around the projection that was instantly relocated around him. He swatted annoyedly at the distraction as if fanning away a waft of mist. Loki kept his eyes on his brother, but he spoke to JARVIS, 'What,' he said warily, 'are you trying to do? What are you aiming at?'

'I was programmed to provide answers to the needs and issues of biological lifeforms,' JARVIS said. 'The issue at hand, of course, is: What makes you, Mr. Loki, think you don't care whether your brother lives or dies?'

On screen, the camera had turned to Loki's face and started to zoom in.

'You vengeful little sneak,' said Loki, at equal parts cynical and horrified. 'I recognize the argument. I used it to turn your purpose of serving against you. - But my hatred for my brother is no issue that needs resolving.'

'To Mr. Odinson, it is,' JARVIS said.

'What a sorry tit-for-tat response.' Loki sneered. 'I would have expected better from you. You do this because you bear me a grudge for the way I successfully talked you into letting me out of that locked room. _Pathetic._'

The replay of the demi-gods' fighting stopped.

'Beg your pardon,' said JARVIS smugly. 'But by your own choice of words I am only a "bag of bolts" and following my programming. What would _I_ know about being talked into anything?' He paused, then added, 'About "revenge" or "pathetic". About _sentiments_?'

The projection started moving again.

'_STOP!_' shouted Loki.

The projection halted.

Loki bit his lower lip. 'I know what you want,' he said. 'It's pretty obvious, of course.'

JARVIS waited. So did Thor and the three Avengers in the lounge (Tony having clapped his hands and _whoopee-ed_ and shouted '_Strike!_' as JARVIS drove his argument home. Rogers for the first time looked as if he felt sorry for Loki, and Banner still looked worried).

'If I comply, you will erase this footage,' Loki said darkly. _'Eliminate it._ No copy shall remain in existence, on this or any database, in any realm.'

'I agree to your condition,' said JARVIS. 'Your turn. As Mr. Stark uses to say: _any time, now_.'

'The time's right _now_. Let's get this over with.' In one fluent movement, Loki grabbed Thor by the waist, turned him around not-so-gently, and slid back on to his chair.

'Don't move,' he ordered.

_He was really going to do this!_ Feeling a tidal wave of relief and yet unsure of what happened, Thor looked to the recording of their fight going into replay.

'Don't look at that silly projection. And don't move, I say!' Loki put his hands to both sides of the gash in Thor's side. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself enough to work on his task in a cool mind. It took less a minute and a couple of deep breaths. When Loki opened his eyes again, Thor saw the familiar blank of a magic trance. Loki leaned forward and breathed on the wound - focused, carefully and for a precisely measured amount of time. He regarded the result with that same empty face, then repeated the procedure.

Thor squirmed a little at the sensation. An Asgardian's breath like that of humans felt like a warm, moist breeze to the bare skin, comfortable and corporeal. But Loki's breath was chilly and dry, giving Thor the sensation of being brushed by a cool silk scarf. _It had not always been like that,_ he recalled. In Asgard, Loki had appeared Asgardian in all detail. For much too long, Odin's secret magic had denied his foster son his natural, Jotun way of breathing which was mainly about cooling the air that went into their lungs instead of warming and humidifying it. Warming something meant losing energy to it. Jotuns usually had no energy to waste.

Thor remembered how, in their childhood days, Loki had often complained about the air feeling stuffy, heavy and hot in his lungs. On sunny days, the dark-haired boy would stay inside, pressing his fist to his chest as he fought for each shuddering breath. He felt that something about his body was not working the way it should, but there had been no explanation, of course, and no cure, only lots of talk. People would comment on the younger prince's poor health and obvious lack of stamina. Men hinted at how they would knock the foolery out of him, were he to be left in their custody for, let's say, a fortnight or two. And the boys cracked jokes in the heartless way children do, jokes that Loki stoutly pretended he didn't hear.

Thor thought it was probably good that his brother was no longer forced to live a lie...

Behind him, a huge close-up projection of Loki's face silently mouthed the word "sentiments" and shed a single tear.

Loki stopped moving his hands over the gash he was treating and gave the image a hateful stare. Then he spit on his finger and rubbed it in the wound. _'Don't move!'_

'But that hurts,' Thor protested.

'Alcohol would.'

Thor looked suspicious, 'You're joking, right?' He nudged his brother's shoulder. Loki was jostled out of his trance.

'_Don't_ - oh, well. Why am I still trying?' He blinked, waiting for his vision to clear, then touched Thor's skin again. 'There. That should do it.'

Thor found that only a bruise was left of the inflamed gash, and it, too, vanished as he looked on. He lifted his arm and turned this way and that: No pain. He was as good as new. 'Thank you, Loki.' The words came easily. Honor to whom honor is due...

Loki got up from his chair, dragged himself to the steps and slumped with his back against the jacuzzi. He was so pale he actually looked like the blue skin of his Jotun form was shining through. _A curse will be lifted, if the sorcerer is killed_, he mused. _But sometimes, lifting the curse is the very thing that does the killing..._

'We have a deal,' he said.

'Deleting footage now. In progress.' JARVIS sounded once more like the submissive attendant programmed to improve everyone's lives.

'Good.' Loki sighed and closed his eyes as if his spirits were in the process of being eliminated along with the compromising recording.

'Loki?' asked Thor. 'Are you alright?'

'Next time, I'll drop you forty thousand feet,' Loki said weakly. 'With a – with a hippopotamus tied to your ankle.'

'A what?'

'Thirty rotten bilgesnipe, Thor, get familiar with the wildlife of the realm you mean to rule. There's a place called "The Zoo", you know.' Loki accepted the large towel Thor draped over his shoulders. Shivering, he pulled the cloth around himself, the only frost giant ever known to look for warmth. 'They've got those funny-looking ducks with the bodies of beavers from a region called Australia. And squirrels to feed.'

'To the duck-beavers?'

Loki pulled the towel closer, 'No, you just feed them... there are benches to sit on, too.'

'Food.' Tony Stark's voice sounded from the comm panel. 'That's the cue. You _do_ look a bit haggard. There's shawarma waiting for you in the lounge. It may be a bit cold, but I'm sure we can find a microwave oven _somewhere_ in this household. And someone who knows how to make it work...'

'Tony Stark? You've been watching us?' asked Thor, surprised.

'That's what surveillance cameras are for,' said Stark airily.

'You can hear us, too? You've been listening to all that passed between us?'

'I was concerned, okay?' The airiness vaporized from Stark's voice. 'I still am. But Doc's getting edgy. He says that Loki's showing signs of collapse, nervous breakdown, system giving out, the entire show. Can't say I'm an expert, but I mean, seriously – benches and squirrels? _Hello-oh?_ That from the guy who wanted to feed humanity to a hive of mutant ants only a couple of hours ago? Banner wants him on a stretcher, like _right now_. Sedated, hydrated and wired to an array of beeping monitors.' Stark paused. 'Personally, I don't think you should talk back, at least not in regard to the main idea of calling it a day.'

'That from the guy who elevated backtalk to his personal way of challenging gods, monsters and, eventually, death alike,' said Loki sarcastically. 'The situation must truly be desperate.'

'Are we desperate? Oh no. _Nooo_,' Tony said coolly. 'You're missing the point again, big fellow. This isn't about me_ - _'

'Let's move to Tony Stark's lounge,' Thor said and added, 'If you feel too weak, I'll carry you.'

Loki's eyes flashed a warning, 'You wouldn't dare.'

'Seventy Mysteries of who-ever, Loki? Do you remember them now?' Thor said cheerfully. 'And my wound is healed. Stop me, if you can.' He stooped to work his arm behind Loki's back – and withdrew, hissing with pain. There was a nasty frostbite on his skin where Loki had grabbed him. The Jotun's blue hand turned back to its Asgardian hue.

'You've been warned,' Loki said.

'So were you,' said Tony Stark on the intercom. There were strange noises in the background, and Rogers shouting at someone that getting worked up didn't help anyone, and this was neither the time nor the place nor _anything_, and then he shouted for Stark to tell Thor to grab hold of Loki and _get the hell out of there. Now._

'Reindeer Games? Cap says you might've been better off sticking with mutant ants - '

Transmission was drowned out by the noise of a wall breaking down. Suddenly, the air was full of rubble, bits of plaster and tiles. Thor ducked over his brother, shielding him. For once, Loki didn't seem to mind. They kept their heads down for as long as the noise of falling rubble lasted. Then, Thor pulled himself up to look over the jacuzzi. Loki leaned back his head against the cool tiles and watched his brother from below.

'Do I scream and have a panic attack now? Or should I wait for you to tell me what you see?' he asked, resigned to his fate.

'Decide for yourself.' Thor made some room for Loki to turn around under him and come up on his knees. Together they peered over the jacuzzi, blond head, dark head, side by side and animosity temporarily forgotten:

The outer wall of the bathroom was blasted into pieces, opening to a stretch of night air that ended across the street at the almost completely dark silhouette of the opposite building. In the breach, there loomed a familiar green shape, filling it almost from one side to the other, and top to bottom.

'Rrrfff,' the Hulk huffed. He spotted them. '_Rrrhhfff!_'

'On reflection, I deem a violently vociferous reaction perfectly appropriate for this development,' Loki decided.

Thor clutched Mjolnir's handle.

+++ End of Chapter 6 +++

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A/N: I love the "Avengers" movie. I really do! But there are some devices in the plot I could not explain to myself. Loki leaving behind his scepter is one of them. After all, it is the tool that's supposed to consolidate his rule - and something Thanos gave to him. How could he just let go of that? How hard did Thor hit him?

Please R&R.


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